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W. CLAEK KUSSELL 


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riie Seaside Librar.v- Pocket Edition. Issued Tri-weekly. By Subscription $36 per annum. 
rightetHiSSo, by George Munro.— Entered at the Post Office at New York at second class rates.— Dec. 21, 188: 








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LITTLE LOO 



By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 

M 




NEW YORK: 

GEORGE MUKRO, PUBLISHER 

17 TO ST.Vandewater Street. 


PREFACE, 


Little Loo was written in 1875, but not printed 
until after The Wreck of the Grosvenor ’’ had been pub- 
lishedo In one volume, and at a moderate price, it may 
find its way to many people who love to hear of the sea, 
and who are not insensible to the poetry that lurks under 
a ship’s hatches beoause of the rough abode of the sea- 
muse and the queer, salt, grimy figures who squat, smok- 
ing and chewing, around her. I was nearer to my old 
ocean-life than I am now by several years when J wrote 
this tale: and for that reason I venture to conceive it a 
truer likeness of existence afore the mast than I should 
be able to draw now; though I have nothing to say about 
it as a piece of literature. The people in this book are 
men I have known, whose yarns I have laughed at, whose 
labors I have shared. If then they do not seem to be alive 
to the reader, it is not because they are imaginary persons, 
creations of the brain imperfectly conceived, but because 
they have sat to an unskillful artist. 

W. Clakk Russell. 


LITTLE LOO. 


CHAPTER I. 

A SHORT INTRODUCTION. 

The sea has its romance as well as the land; and many 
things have befallen sailors which, could they be related 
with but half the skill that is exercised on lan\ 
would furnish the freshest and most fascinating reading 
in the world. 

Although the Eoyal JSTavy has supplied themes to most 
English sea- novelists, from Smollett to the most brilliant 
of the genial line, Michael Scott; I am not sure that the 
Merchant Service would not yield materials more preg- 
nant witli romance and more lively by variety. The slave- 
chase, the pirate-hunting, the ocean duel, the heavy sea- 
battles, the carousing on shore, — have not all these things 
been told? the white-haired, copper-faced admiral, the 
post-captain and his six dozens,’’ the jokes of the gun- 
room, the groans of the cockpit, ’the fok’sle yarns with 
their rather tiresome howsome-devers,” have not all 
these things been described? 

And being written, what remains? One fight is like 
another fight: one set of officers and midshipmen very 
much the counterpart of another set of officers and mid- 
shipmen. And if, twenty years ago, as a well-known 
writer complained, romance was being squeezed out of the 
service by the ligatures of red tapq and the monotony and 
sameness of man-qf-war discipline, shall we hope to find 
ft noio in those vast, floating, shapeless machines and 
structures of iron, savoring largely of Birmingham hard- 
ware, in guns big enough to berth a ship’s company, in 
the roaring of steam, the convulsions of engines, and the 
sharp-shooting of that dastardly invention, the torpedo? 


4 


LITTLE LOO. 


That romance should be found in small merchantmen, 
among crews of black' visaged seamen, with lips stained by 
tobacco-juice, their mossy breasts and burnt arms overrun 
with horrid devices in India-ink and gunpowder, their 
language a gibberish of dock-oaths and Yankee slang and 
nautical abbreviations, seems rather absurd, especially in 
the face of those pretty volumes of love, yachting, picnics, 
and descriptions of country scenery, which threaten to 
become our only literary aliment. 

Yet if you doubt the existence of romance amid such 
outrageous conditions of slush, tar, and tobacco junks, 
read — not the fresh and faithful pictures of Herman 
Melville, not the incomparable descriptions of Dana 
(alas! for the honor of British mercantile enterprise that 
the apotheosis of the merchant sailor should be the laboi* 
of love of two Americans!), but the prosaic depositions of 
mariners, just as they are reported in the London 
shipping paper. 

Tliere^ told in simple language, with never a hint of 
self-consciousness in the plain narratives to deform by 
doubts of accuracy the impressive poetry of truth; there 
you will find the real romance of the sea,^as related by 
masters of smacks, of brigs, of little schooners, of big 
ships, of homely tug-boats; stories of fire, of shipwreck in 
furious gales and in dead calms, of lonely men face to face 
witli hideous death for days together in fragile boats in 
mid-ocean, of starving companies on desolate islands, of 
mutiny, of murder; and there you will fiud the pathos of 
stirring deeds and noble bravery. 

Such true romance there is then, and much of it, God 
knows (and surely it should not be left unsung for the 
want of a poet) — to be found in little forecastles black as 
coal-holes, in small groaning cabins whereof the seams 
and crevices are dark with cockroaches; in brown and 
dingy vessels, toward which the eye would disdain to 
glance an instant from yonder paramount lord of the deep, 
that tower of iron, interpreted to mean an English man-* 
^of-war by the streamer at the masthead, with the brass- 
work shining like gold, and the red-coated sentry at- the 
gangway, and the spruce midshipman with the opera- 
glasses on the delicate-looking bridge. 

Poor little merchantmen! yet my sym.pathies are with 
yon. Those coal-dusted faces looking over the bulwarks 


LITTLE LOO. 


5 


belong to men wbo have verily and indeed gone down into 
deep waters, wbo have been so long near death that its 
presence is as real a condition of their lives a& any faculty 
of theirs that makes np the sum of their moral being. Go 
among them and hear their yarns. These shall be the 
true ancient mariners to hold you sitting and listening. 
Yet they sail under a red ensign, their cargo is coal, and 
their discipline is their inclination. 

The sea has its romance as well as the land; yet those 
who best know the sea might well be the most reluctant 
to make it their theme. The mind the most experienced 
in its beauties and its perils would be. the quickest to feel 
the impotence of word-painting to compass and depicture 
the wonderful majesty of the deep in tempest or at peace. 
And to those who do battle with it, few men can do justice 
by description. It is one thing to sketch the shell, to 
color forth the rough husk and make it diverting or 
tragical by marine pigments; but to gauge to the heart of 
the sailor, to delineate in his conversation, his actions, his 
character, his intemperance, his follies, his superstitions, 
the subtle admixture and inspiring intermingling of th» 
marvelous and eternal circle of heaven and water in whick 
he lives — much genius is wanted to do this. Let loose the 
albatross in midland woods,, and the crow is the better 
bird. Jack, like the dolphin, is alive with color which 
few artists can paint. Pin him down on the conk of liter- 
ature; he is a wriggling commonplace, comical through 
the force of attitude and oath, but innocent of the fore- 
castle, and freed from that soul of brine and tempest and 
the hoarse poetry of the sea which makes him — let him be 
the veriest swab so that he is a sailor — some»t-hing which 
only a great pen can express. ^ 

So much in deprecation of my self-imposed task. And 
maybe I am writing this little prelude with an eye to some 
who have a trick of lugging in the flowing breeches and 
tarpaulin headgear without the smallest knowledge of the 
true thing they cover. 

Just another word before we get under weigh. It may 
happen that I shall have to introduce you to a crew whose 
morals and ways of doing business you won’t like; but let 
me tell you nevertheless that Jack (though lie may have a 
rogue for a brother, like his betters) is himself an honest, 
big-hearted creature, whom you would love in spite of his 


6 


LITTLE LOO. 


bear^ and drink, if yon knew him well; with a mind 
Pretty nigh as big as the horizon he is always sailing in 
the iniddle of; with mystery, poetry, and religion in him 
tod, believe me; no matter what kind of craft he serves 
aboard of, nor what the color of the flag he is afloat tin- 
ier, so long as it is British or American; and by this time 
quite deserving of a proper introduction to the public who 
know nothing, and consequently care nothing about him, 
though be is the hardest w^orked of all that public’s sert- 
ants; so that he may no longer be confounded with tlfe 
cockneys and tailors and fresh-water shell-backs, who clap 
on his overalls and sicken their stomachs with liis quids, 
and scrape to us, from the stage or in novels, under the 
patronage of largely advertised reputations. 

I leave the job of introducing him to the man who 
shall know how to do it; and so now for my story, begin- 
ning fair at the flying-jib-boom end. 


CHAPTER II. 

MY WELCOME HOME. 

O^TE June I returned home after having been absent 
two years and four months. As fourth mate, at a pound 
a month w^ages, I had twenty pounds to take up, clear of 
dues, which, sailor-like, I considered a large sum of 
money; but a portion of it I had to expend immediately 
in clothes, my attire, when I quitted the ship at the 
docks, being rather more picturesque tlian decent; con- 
sisting of a pair of well-caulked breeclies patched in vari- 
ous colors, no waistcoat, an old pilot jacket, two odd 
shoes, and an old billycock hat which I had fished out of 
the water with a boat-hook when lying off Hong Kong. 

The truth is, when I had provided for this last voyage, 
I had never contemplated a longer journey than a run to 
Madras and home again. But on our arrival out, the ship 
Avas chartered as a transport, and for eleven blessed 
months we lay at anchor in the Bay of Pe-chi-li with 
nothing in sight but a slimy horizon; so that no clothes 
were to be had for love or money, not even a Chinese 
smock, for the village rogues had nothing to sell but poul- 
try and eggs. Hence bit by bit my slender outfit got 


LITTLE LOO. 


7 


worn down to the stump of an old coat, half a shirt (frotit 
and sleeves), and a, tight soid-westev; so that I had to get 
what clothes I could from the crew at a heavy /expense of 
rum and tobacco, my silver watch, two good pipes, and 
four pounds in silver dollars. 

However, with twenty pounds in my pocket in London, 
I soon rigged myself out in proper land- going trim, fit to 
get married in; and stowing some other respectable in- 
vestments in my chest, I started by train, two days after 
the ship’s arrival, for my home in Bayport, by which 
name I artfully disguise, a flourishing seaport on the south 
coast. 

After twenty-eight months of sea and sky, diversified 
here and there by glimpses of blue distant shores or a spell 
off a tropical town, where the broiling days are consumed 
in getting in cargo, and the nights in drinking Yankee 
concoctions in sultry hotels, the sight of the rich English 
country, the glorious green fields and lanes, the waving 
corn, the brown laborers leaning on their forks and scythes, 
is a blessing to the eyes. One cannot see enough of so 
much remembered yet novel beaut}^ My head was so long 
out of the carriage window that I had nearly lost my sight 
from the grit and dust. God knows what sweet memories 
the homely landscape awoke in me; recollections of my 
mother who had been dead ten years; my school days, the 
books I used to read, my boyish hopes and ambitions — 
thousand tender pretty thoughts shining out upon the 
past like spaces of blue heaven on a gray sky. 

It was above fifteen months since 1 had heard from my 
father, but I never considered that much may happen in 
fifteen months — enough to put a man’s life awry, to change 
his fortune and his character too, to set him walking east 
after his having steered west all his life. Young sailors 
are not often troubled with speculations of this kind. 

It was evening when the train reached Bayport, The 
setting sun was shining aslant over the red roofs of the 
town, on the gray walls of the church tower, making beams 
of light of the gilt weather-cocks on the flag-posts and 
house-tops; while the stretch of sea between the two hills, 
on one of which the coast-guards’ house looked like a flock 
of sheep, was a motionless surface of deep dark blue. 

I had written to my father from the docks, to tel), him 
the ship had arrived and when he might expect to see me: 


8 


LITTLE LOO. 


and looked round, when I got upon the platform, hoping 
that the old man would have made shift to meet and weh 
< 3 ome me after my long absence. 

However, no one that I knew was there; so calling a 
stout lad to carry my sea-chest, I walked out of the station 
and down the familiar street at the bottom of which was 
my father’s house. 

By this time the sun was gone, and the shadows of the 
houses nodding at one another at no great distance apart 
made the street dusky; there was plenty of people abroad, 
smacksmen gallivanting with their Sukeys, servants out 
on errands, foreign sailors belonging to vessels in the har- 
bor, staring into the pastry-cooks’ or jevi^lers’ shops and 
talking loudly. 

Followed by my porter, I reached the old home, turned 
the door handle as 1 had done scores of times in past days, 
and walked in. The boy put my chest in the passage, and 
I stood listening to catch my father’s voice and waiting 
for the parlor door to fly open. 

There was a dead silence in the house and I felt uneasy. 
Thought I, Jack, the governor has left the old shop, and 
here you are an intruder in another man’s castle. Better 
clear out, mate, and make inquiries.” 

Was there no servant? I coughed, but that did no 
good. I pushed open the parlor door, and the first squint 
satisfied me that my father still lived here, for I remem- 
bered the furniture, the old silver-faced clock with the 
wild tick, the queer oblong looking-glass over the chimney, 
the model schooner under a glass shade, my father’s pict- 
ure and — no, not my mother’s. That was ^'one; in its 
place hung a bit of badly-done framed tapestry work — 

Moses in the Bulrushes.” 

I returned to the passage and sang out, ‘^^Shlp ahoy!” 
at the top of my voice. Ho sooner done than somebody 
upstairs screamed. Then a woman’s voice called back. 

Who’s there? I see you, sir. You had better be ofl! 
I’m a cornin’.” 

Bear a hand then and come on, whoever you are!” 
I shouted, and went back again into the parlor, where I 
helped myself to some sherry from a decanter on the side- 
board, by way of consoling myself for this disagreeable 
reception. 

It was too bad to be met in this way after so long a 


LITTLE LOO. 


9 


spell of absence. Wliere was my father, and what was 
he about? did he receive my letter? Not so much as a 
cu«p of tea prepared for me, by heaven! I had looked 
forward to a hearty grip of the hand, a cheerful supper, 
a long yarn, and a good bed. Why, I had got a quantity 
of prime honey-dew, a Chinese purse, and half-a-dozen 
other knick-knacks for the old man in my chest. I had 
not forgotten him; and this neglect of me, that odious 
voice^ upstairs, tin's deserted parlor — lord! it was like a 
bucket of water poured down my back. 

I threw myself angrily into an armchair, and waited for 
some one to come in. Anon I heard the flapping of loose 
slippers on the attic stairs, and at the same moment the 
house door was opened, there was a scrubbing of feet on 
the mat, then a silence, then a loud whisper, — 

Oh! he’s comeL” 

Hereupon I got up and walked into the passage. A bit' 
of a wench stood at the foot of the staircase, and she sud- 
denly said, Is that you, missis?” 

‘MVho else, you owl?” 

Near the house door and close against my chest were a 
man and a woman. It was too dark to distinguish faces, 
but I saw that the man was not my father. 

Pray,” said I, as politely as I could speak, does Mr, 
Chadburn live here?” 

“ Why, don’t you know?” cried the woman. 

^^Kuow what?” I answered. 

There was no answer. 

^^Mrs. Chadburn!” exclaimed the man. we shall con- 
verse with more satisfaction to our feelings and less risk 
to our shins in the parlor. My dear, may I suggest that 
you step upstairs to remove your bonnet, and leave to me 
the affecting — the painful — ahem !” 

At the mention of the name -^^Mrs. Chadburn” I fell 
back a step Avith such hearty astonishment that I was 
within an ace of rolling over the servant, avIio, probably 
in her anxiety to satisfy her doubts of me, had crept close 
alongside, and was staring round under the lee of my back 
into my face. 

The man had a large hand and a smooth voice. He laid 
his large hand on my arm, and exclaimed, whilst he con- 
trived somehow, Avithout shoving, to edge me out of the 
passage into the parlor, — 


10 


LITTLE LOO. 


young friend, Mrs. Obadbiirn is not in the enjoy- 
ment of whafc may be called a robust constitution—’’ 

I interrupted him vehemently. 

''Who the devil,” I shouted, ^'is Mrs. Chadburn? 
Who are you? Whose house is this? Where is my father?” 

He gave his head a melancholy shake, and I could now 
perceive that he was a long-nosed man with small black 
eyes and a close-shaven face, dressed in black, with a white 
neckcloth, as ample as a dinner-napkin and twice as long, 
around his throat. He applied himself rvith a mournful 
air to the sherry, using the wine-glass I had drunk from, 
and then seating himself, crossing his thin legs and mak- 
ing an arch of his hands by pressing the finger-tips to- 
gether. 

I was much exasperated by his coolness, and was about 
to repeat my questions with proper sea-emphasis, when he 
said, — 

" Young man your father is no more.” 

"Do 3"ou mean to tell me he is dead?” 

"Dead and buried, ipv poor young friend.” 

"When did he die?” “ 

"Yesterday was ten months.” 

I was quite stunned, and held on to a table near the 
door, tilting it up by my weight and capsizing a tumbler 
of water in which a rose w^as stuck. The water poured 
on to the carpet, and down dropped my long-nosed friend 
on his knees, and began to swab it up with his pocket- 
handkerchief, crying out, — 

" The carpet will be injured — a valuable brussels — a 
five frame!” and whilst he rubbed the carpet with his 
handkerchief he continued, "He died happy. A monu- 
ment of piety and virtue was at his side, and received his 
last breath, and closed his eyes.” 

I managed to get my feelings under control and asked 
him if the woman that was upstairs had been my father’s 
wife. He got off the carpet on to a chair and answered, — 

"Yes. Mrs. Chadburn had been Mr. Chadburn’s wife. 
She was now his widow. But,” and here he let me see 
the Mack fangs that ornamented his gums as he spread his 
great monkey- shaped mouth in a grin, "he might inform 
me — not in confidence, for I was at liberty to publish the 
news — that Mrs. 0. was not likely to remain the late Mr. 
C.’s widow very long.” 


LITTLE LOO. 


11 


I should think,” said I; ^^and I reckon, by the 
way you swabbed that carpet, that you are to be skipper 
here?” 

He waved his hand affirmatively, but did not answer, 
though there was something enormously provoking in his 
slow complacent grin. 

I was now at a dead stand, and remained staring on the 
fellow, thinking what I should do. The fact of my father 
having married a second time, unknown to me, and choos- 
ing a woman capable of transplanting iier widowed affec- 
tions into such a weedy, ill-favored soil as that before me, 
had brought iiiy grief up with a round turn, and canted 
my feelings into a decidedly unfilial channel. I turned 
my eyes upon the wall where my mother’s picture used to 
hang, and the sight of the abomination of wool and tapes- 
try work that hung in its place put my blood into a heat. 

Where is the widow gone?” I shouted. Doesn’t 
she mean to see me. Just call her down, will you. I 
want to ask her some questions.” 

Any questions you may wish to ask, young man, I am 
quite in a position to answer,” said the fellow, through his 
nose. 

What do you know about it?” I cried scornfully. 

About what, sir?” 

want to know if my father left any property? — ^ 
whose house this is?” 

The man turned up his eyes until they looked as blank 
as a couple of bird’s eggs in a nest. 

Young man, these are very worldly views for you to 
take in a hurry,” he droned. ‘^Have you no regrets for 
the dead? no sighs to heave?” 

You had better not continue calling me young man,” 
I said, ^^or I shall have to talk to you in a fashion you 
won’t like. If I have any rights, here I am to assert 
them; so stand by. Where is Mrs. Chadburn?” 

And as I said this, I swung round on my heel, meaning 
to sing out to her from the passage, when she stepped 
into the room. I think she had been listening at tlie 
door. 

She held a parcel in her hand, but I took no notice of 
that, and peered down into her face to see what sort of a 
figure-head she carried. However, Mr. Longnose was con- 
siderate enough to light a pair of candles at this point. 


12 


LITTLE LOO. 


whereby I saw that the lady was about forty years old, 
with thick eyebrows and mere streaks of eyes, very stout 
all about the bows, with three chins; and with down 
enough upon her cheeks to make me think that were she 
to sit to a barber she would do her beauty no hurt. 

As she did not offer to speak, I gave her a bow, and 
said, I hear you are Mrs. Chadburn.” 

Yes, that’s my name, sir, at present,” she answered, 
with a look at her friend. 

While you have been upstairs, ma’am,” I continued, 

have heard some news. But 1 am not so. surprised to 
learn that my father is dead, as that he married a second 
time,” 

Oh, indeed!” she exclaimed, tossing her nose as though 
she expected I was going to be rude. 

I should be glad to know,” said I, if he spoke of 
me before his death, if he gave you any message for 
me,” 

Nothing that I am aware of,” she replied, ^^but this, 
which were in his will, and I now hand, it to you, as you 
can testify of your own eyes, Mr. Lick water.” 

The long-nosed man answered, ‘‘1 witness.” 

She gave me the parcel, which I opened, and I found in 
it my father’s old gold watch, chain, and seal. I wrapped 
the things up again, and put them in my pocket. Just 
then I was in no mood to be sentimental. 

^‘That was all, Mrs. Chadburn?” said Mr. Lickwater 
interrogatively. 

That’s all, as this gentleman may find out for himself 
if he prefers, by calling on my solicitor, Mr. Henson, of 
Mulberry Koad, No. 9.” 

I came here,” said I, *^to see my father, and 1 find 
thak die is dead. I thought I might take his old hand 
again, and tell him about my last voyage. Whose home is 
this now?” 

Mine!” cried Mrs. Chadburn quickly, and bridling up. 

This was my father’s house — I mean his own free- 
hold.” 

deYoung man,” groaned the execrable Lickwater, I 
may spare Mrs. Chadburn’s sensitive feelings, and save time 
by stating that the departed, whose death we all lament, 
left everything by will to his relict.” 

^^W^hich were his house and furniture!” exclaimed the 


LITTLE LOO. 


13 


relict; ^^for he had nothing else but his annuity, and that 
died with him, and lord knows that wouldn’t liave given 
hirn.half the comforts he had, if they hadn’t been paid for 
by my own savings. Ho never could have loved me manly- 
like,” she bursts out, or he’d have insured his life!” 

I was quite aware that my father had had only an 
annuity to depend upon, and did not doubt that his relict 
and Lickwater spoke the truth. 

Not being asked to take a seat, I remained all this tima 
standing; Avhich inhospitable attitude began now to operate 
on my temper again. I wislud to see if my step-mother 
would ask me to sleep in the house, or invite me to take 
supper, and held my tongue for a spell; but finding that 
she would not break silence nor do more than examine me 
out of the corners of her eyes with every manifestation of 
suspicion and feaivl broke forth, It’s pretty plain that 
I am in the road here, and bad better dear out.’^ 

Do you purpose remaining any length of time in Bay- 
port?” asked Mr. Lickwater. 

Not long enough to forbid the banns, nor to put this 
faithful relict to any expense in tea and soap,” I answered 
contemptuously. Eat the widow’s bread and butter in 
peace, respected friend: no fear that I shall try and get a 
bite out of your slice!” 

^^Eeally, young gentleman, I am not accustomed!” he 
mumbled, very red in the face, and getting up and button- 
ing his coat, while Mrs. Ohadburn cried, Oh, the 
wretch!” and hustled up close against him, 

AV^hat would you be at?” said I, willfully misapprehend- 
ing his lamb-like gesture, and throwing my cap on the 
table as though fully prepared to fight it out. 

There was a brass coal-scuttle just behind him, and in 
stepping away from me, he struck his heel against it, and 
down he went. But this was not all. In falling he grabbed 
at the relict’s gown and ripped it beautifully off her waist, 
and, what was worse, brought her neatly into the 
fender. Such a hullabaloo! she pounding the fire-irons,' 
and he the coal-scuttle, the edges of which skreeked against 

the wainscot. I heard him d my eyes as clearly as 

ever I heard that familiar objurgation delivered at sea, 
while she shrieked murder.” 

However, a little of this went a long way with me, and 
having said my say, I walked into the passage with a sail- 


14 


LITTLE LOO. 


or’s blessing on the house, laid hold of my chest, and s^ung 
it and myself on to the pavement, closing the door behind 
me with a bang that made the windows rattle as though a 
giin had. exploded in the street. 

I waited some moments to see if old Lickwater was dis- 
posed to follow^ I then signaled to a porter in a white 
blouse, who was passing on the opposite side of the street, 
and, bidding him catch hold of my chest, I led the way to 
the White Hart Hotel, which was a house I well knew. 


CHAPTEK III. 

I AM TOLD SOME IIEWS. 

The landlord of the White Hart was a respectable young 
fellow, decently connected in the town, and the owner of 
a yacht of five tons, in which I had often taken a cruise 
with him around the Bay. 

We knew each other perfectly well, and when he spied 
me coming up the steps of his hotel, he ran out and gave 
me such a hearty welcome that it went a good way to 
compensate me for the relict’s treatment. 

His name was Transom. He was busy over his ledgers, 
he told me. Just now; but he would join me by-and-by, 
and let me have the news of the town for the last two years; 
and meanwhile he might hint in a friendly way that there 
was a splendid cut of boiled beef in the house, and that I 
would find the waiters streaks of lightning in their move- 
ments. 

I trimmed myself up a bit in a bedroom and came down- 
stairs. The cofiee-room was empty, which suited me very 
well, as I was in the temper to be alone. The bay-window 
of this room hung over the pavement, and looked right on 
to the harbor and the long stretch of sea beyond. There 
was a fair number of vessels of different rigs and sizes in 
the harbor, with a sprinkling of screw steamboats and 
river craft. Swarms of persons moved about under the 
window and along the wharves; not far off a company of 
negro minstrels were regaling. a thick crowd of sailors and 
women and others with songs; different kinds of music — 
strains of the concertina, flute, and fiddle came up on the 
light sea-breeze out of the harbor, mingled now and again 


LITTLE LOO. 


15 


with the clanking of capstan-pauls, the overhauling of 
cable ranges and the chorusing of seamen. 

I felt very low-spirited, and the merry crowds outside 
and the music only served to give an edge to my melan- 
choly. I sat thinking of my father, and wondering what he 
died of, and if they were kind to him when he was ill, 
and what put it into his head to marry Whiskers (as I 
called her), and who she was when he made her his wife. 

Presently Transom came in, and asked me to smoke a 
pipe and take a glass with him in his private room, which 
invitation I gladly accepted; and now behold me in an 
armchair at an open window looking on to a pretty garden, 
smelling of roses and honeysuckle. 

After conversing awhile. Transom told me the story of 
my father’s marriage. 

know more about it,” said he, ^^than any man in 
this town, and Pll show you how. Your father, after you 
had sailed on your last cruise, used often to come round 
here and sit smoking by himself: that was in the winter 
when there was but little business doing, and when the 
smoking-room was empty night after night. One evening 
we were smoking a pipe together, when he said, ‘ Transom, 
do you ever notice me in church?” 

‘ Always,’ said I, ‘Mr. Chadburn, when I chance to 
look your way.’ 

“ ‘Do you observe,’ says he, ‘that I sometimes sit in 
company with a lady?’ 

“‘I have seen Mrs. Parsons in your pew now and 
again,’ I answered. 

“ ‘Quite right!’ says he, closing one eye. 

“‘I suppose she tV Mrs. Parsons,’ I said, looking at 
him hard. 

“ ‘ Nobody else. Mind that, my boy. Nobody else.’ 

“‘She’s a dressmaker, isn’t she, Mr. Chadburn?’ I 
asked him. 

“ ‘ Yes, and she can turn out a satin waistcoat neatly 
flowered, and stitched strong in the back, my boy, war- 
ranted not to burst on the stoutest man alive, better than 
any tailor I ever met,’ he answered. "‘She presented me 
with one the other day, and I wore it in church. Very 
kind of her, wasn’t it?’ 

“Seeing his eye twinkling and winking, I burst into 
a laugh, and he laughed too. I never saw anybody 


16 


LITTLE LOO. 


laugh like he did. His face swelled up, and then he 
swallowed some tobacco-smoke, which pretty nearly did 
for him. 

‘"■When all this was over, he asked me, with the water 
trickling over his cheeks, what I thought of Mrs. Parsons, 
told him that 1 knew nothing about her. 

^^‘'You can’t say she isn’t a fine woman,’ says he. 
^What’s said of good wine, I say of her, — there’s plenty 
of body. I was always partial to stout females myself. I 
was partial to them very young.’ 

waited to see what he was aiming at, and after 
smoking a bit with his eye thoughtfully fixed on my 
face he asked me what I should think if he married her. 

told him it was no business of mine, but that I did 
not fancy voio would much relish a dressmaker for a step- 
mother. 

^ That’s just it,’ said he. ^ Jack won’t like it.’ 

^ I don’t suppose you are in earnest, are you, Mr. 
Chadburn?’ I said. 

I want to be advised,’ he answered, ^ She seems 
particularly fond of me, and I am dull enough, the Lord 
knows, at home, when Jack’s away, and he’s always away. 
1 should like to have your opinion, Mr. Transom. You’re 
a sensible young man,’ and here he paid me some polite 
compliments. 

Then I should keep single if I were you,’ I said. I 
thought this would annoy him as being contrary to his 
wishes, but I was determined to speak like a friend. To 
my surprise he jumped up, shook my hand warmly, said 
that he was quite of my opinion, that he was pretty sure 
Mrs. Parsons only wanted him for what she could get, 
and that it was not becoming for an old man to be marry- 
ing; and after talking for twenty minutes to this effect, 
during which he called the woman some unpleasant names, 
he went away; and I’m blowed, Mr. Chadburn, as true as 
I sit here, if I didn’t find out next day from old Tarns, 
the pew opener at St. Michael’s, that he had been married 
to the woman a week!” 

And what sort of wife did she make him?” I asked 
after a silence. 

He replied that, so far as he had heard, she had behaved 
herself pretty well: there had been some gossip about her 


LITTLE LOO. 


1 ? 


liking the company of a long-iiosecl man named Lick wa- 
ter, who' is a small schoolmaster hereabouts, and that she 
would have him more often to tea and supper, Transom 
believed than my father relished or understood. How- 
ever/’ continued he, though your father used now and 
again to stop round to the White Hart for a quiet smoke, 
I never heard him complain of his wife nor mention Lick- 
water’s name; and I really think, on the whole, he had a 
middling easy time of it, though his friends could ndver 
make out what attraction an old gentleman like your father 
could find in a vulgar twopenny dressmaker.” 

This was pretty well all [ learnt of my father, his mar- 
riage and his death: and was, for the matter of that, all 
I had need to know. 

My goodnatured companion then led the conversation 
away to other topics, and told me some of the changes 
which had taken place, since I was last in Bayport. 

Lizzie Harris, a sweet little brown girl I was once des- 
perately in love with, was married to old Corkendale the 
wine merchant. Frank Hawkins] a cashier in the bank 
and the Beau Brummel of the town, had bolted with five 
hundred pounds, had tried to cut his throat in Switzer- 
land, and was. now carrying a cropped head in some jail. 
Young Dick Swift, a drunken scarecrow, had come into 
two thousand a year, and had married into or out of an 
ancient titled family. One was dead, one was bankrupt, 
one was in California, one was in the Divorce Court — 
such changes, by heaven! may two pitiful years effect! 

Little Jenkinson, who was all chest, animal spirits, and 
red hair, the cheeriest of creatures, whom, when I quitted 
the town, I would have wagered good for a hundred years 
of life, was dead of diphtheria, the weak man’s disease; 
while old Samuel Gorman, who was aged ninety-two years 
when I went away, and whose death Avas* hourly antici- 
pated by the parish authorities, for he Avas a miser Avho 
lived alone in a broken-down house, this old man Avas still 
alive, and might be daily seen, active and intoxicated, in 
the market-place! 

I told Transom of my reception at the old home, that I 
had inherited nothing from my father but his watch and 
chain, and that certain hopes I had ambitiously conceived 
must be knocked on the head and stowed away for the 
present, as all my Avorldly goods ^consisted of a sea-chest 


IS 


LITTLE- LOO, 


and a few elotlies, and my fortune in money jnst eight 
pounds fourteen shillings. 

AVhat I had meant to do,” I continued, had I found 
rny father alive, was to remain on shore for three months, 
and read for examination as second mate. But that will 
l)e impossible now,” said I. ‘‘I cannot afford to remain 
on shore; I must go to sea again immediately. It’s a hard 
alternative after twenty-eight months of salt water: but 
there is no remedy for it.” 

Then you will go as fourth mate again?” said Tran- 
som. 

I shall go before the mast,” I answered. 

After being an officer!” shouted Transom. 

A fourth mate is not much of an officer,” said I with a 
shrug. If he is anything in particular, lie is steward- 
in-chief to the creWj pumps ujj the rum and weighs 
out the stores. Those were my jobs. I don’t mean to 
say that if I had inherited a fortune I should ship before 
the mast, or even go to sea again,” I continued with 
gloomy sarcasm. But just now I’m a beggar, without 
choice, do you see, Transom; and must eat and drink 
somehow. And,, on the whole. I’d rather go to sea in a 
forecastle than sweep a crossing, which I am inclined to 
think is pretty nearly all I am fit for ashore, or at least 
the only employment I arn likely to get.” 

‘‘Well, well, there’s no hurry,” said the good-natured 
fellow. ‘'‘Mix another glass of grog. Something may 
turn up.” 

“ I’ve touched bottom at all events this blessed day,” 
I groaned; “and there’s comfort in knowing I can’t go 
deejier.” 


CHAPTEE jy. 

BAYPOET HAEBOE. 

I SLEPT soundly that night in the clean hotel sheets, and 
when I awoke in the morning I lay in bed for half an hour, 
thinking; but finding tjiat no good was likely to come of 
that amusement, I tumbled up, and putting a couple of 
towels in my pocket, walked along the quay to the sands, 
undressed, and swam a mile. 

When I got out to a buoy that marks a channel for the 


LITTLE LOO 19 

smacks, I perceived a man’s head, and found I had a com- 
panion. He bawled to me, I’ll race you back.” 

I’m your man,” I answered. And when in a line we 
started. It was a glorious morning, the sea smooth as a 
lake — but I soon found that the fellow swam two feet to my 
one, so I sung out to let him know that I was beaten, and 
took it leisurely. 

That swim, and the sight of the old cliffs shining like 
pearl in the morning sun, the red-topped houses all 
grouped in a lump down to the left, and the forests of 
masts^rising, so it seemed, under the town, did my spirits 
more good than lying in bed and thinking. 

When I reached the sands, I found my swimmer run- 
ning to and fro to dry himself with the wind — -an excel- 
lent towel. He came to his clothes presently, and said 
some civil commonplaces whilst we dressed, but I took no 
particular notice of him, though I guessed he was a sea^ 
faring man by his sunburnt face and throat, and his ab- 
rupt way of speaking. 

By the time I had returned to the hotel and put myself 
into proper trim, I was in a right temper for breakfast; 
but, somehow, my appetite- — instead of being a pleasurable 
sensation, as physiologists tell us young appetite ought to 
be, and, as I have reason to know, very often is — struck 
me with dismay; it was like a finger pointing to my purse; 
it was a voice groaning in my ear, Jack, hunger is ex- 
pensive. Your means are slender. Look to yourself, 
shipmate, or you’ll be finding yourself hungry without the 
wherewithal to caulk your want.” 

Still I managed to find my way to the coffee-room, and 
to order a meal that owed not a little of its relish to my 
swim. 

By way of company I got hold of a local newspaper, and 
read some County Court news — Joseph Leech sued Michael 
Dove for thirteen shillings, being the interest on one 
pound sterling teit to the said Dove by the said Leech for 
seven weeks — children of Israel, glorify Leech! — and was 
]‘eading away like clock-work, when the glass folding- 
doors, opened and in stepped my swimmer, followed by a 
lady. 

There was nobody else in the coffee-room to look at, so 
I looked at them. 


20 


LITTLE LOO. 


It was now easily seen that the man was a seaman by 
twenty little signs in his clothes, walk, and tricks, which, 
perhaps, only a sailor would take notice of. His face was 
colored with that reddish tint of sunburn which suits 
good-looking men, and suited him; ruled right otf in a 
clean athwartship line across his forehead where his cap 
fitted, and showing his upper brow as white as a woman’s. 
The lower part of liis face was partly concealed by a beard 
and mustache. On the whole, with his brilliant blue 
eyes and handsome nose; tawny hair, and upright, well- 
built figure — not stiff like a soldier’s, but graceful, with 
tlie easy, slightly rolling seaman’s step — he struck me as 
one of the best-looking men I had ever seen. 

But his companion took my fancy most, and I am afraid 
that I stared at her somewhat longer than good manners 
would have justified. 

A sweeter-looking little woman never lived. Little she 
looked, to me, at least, who stood within an inch and a 
half of six feet. Her hair was brown, and she wore it 
coiled down upon her head and hitched over a comb. Her 
eyes were a fine melting brown, alive, they seemed to me, 
with the small fire of demure good spirits, and over them 
were dark well-defined eyebrows. Her complexion was 
dark and soft, dark enough to induce one to look for the 
place of her birth in latitudes nearer the sun than tho'se 
of our island, and a warm rich blush on either cheek. 

No wonder I stared. For over two years the prettiest 
faces I had seen were chiefiy yellow or black, with fiat 
noses and oval eyes and high cheekbones. 

They seated themselves at a table fronting the one I oc- 
cupied, the man with his back and his companion with 
her face toward me. I pretended to read my local paper 
whilst they breakfasted, but most of the time I was fur- 
tively admiring this pretty woman, watching her white 
teeth shining when she smiled or spoke to the man, won- 
dering who was the happy rogue that J>ad succeeded in 
lighting up her glorious brown eyes witli love, 'for I could 
not question that the sweet rarity was pledged or done for 
’ — I mean engaged or married. Bub I did not think that 
the fellow with her was the fortunate man; no, his man- 
ner was neither that of lover nor liusband — it was what I 
cannot express, for the reason that I could see what it was 
noty without understanding what it w;^s; whilst her be- 


LITTLE LOO. 21 

havior was jnst sportive and full of easy, pretty familiar- 
ity, and that’s about all I can make of it in this place. 

I left the coffee-room presently, and putting a pipe in 
my mouth — for is not this one of the privileges of the sea- 
side? — I sallied forth into the brilliant hot morning, to 
have a look at the old place and see what ships were in 
the harbor. Not that it had entered rny head to ship from 
this port. 

Willing, as necessity had made me, to go to sea, for a 
spell, before the mast, my dignity was still proof against 
the notion of serving on board anything smaller than a 
thousand-ton ship. I pretty well knew the sort of craft 
that traded to Bayport, or touched here; that they Avere 
steam or sailing colliers, or grain or timber vessels; tliat 
the forecastles were moldy abodes of gloom and dirt; and 
that for work, what time was not spent in the hold or up 
aloft, was devoted to pumping. 

But a man’s thoughts always stand a better chance out 
of doors than in. Something meets his eye and suggests 
an idea; or he gets into conversation, and a new turn and 
spirit is given to his views. Staring lonely at the ceiling, 
or pacing a carpet, may do very Avell for poets, but a man 
who must get bread by other means than his imagination 
can’t do better than put himself in a crowd, and reflect 
Avith an elbow in his ribs. 

The Avharves were large, and the piers stretched a good 
distance into the sea, and furnished a fine harbor of ref- 
uge in bad weather. The quays near the town Avere' 
chiefly occupied by colliers discharging coal or taking - in 
ballast. There Avere steam-cranes at Avork here and there, 
and a crowd of vessels three deep lying against the south 
pier, Avith lighters alongside the outer ones. A couple of 
steamers Avere getting up steam and discharging dense 
volumes of smoke into the pure blue; some smacks Avere 
Avarping out of the harbor, their little winches rattling 
merrily. . 

The Avhole place was full of business; and from where I 
stood, midway up the Avestern pier, the eye surveyed such 
a brisk, cheerful, and sunny picture, so full of color and 
moA'ement, as must have raised up the most depressed 
heart with thankfulness and hope. 

I looked at tlie old town Avith a fond gaze; it was my 
nativO place. I could see the top of the building Avhere I 


22 


LITTLE LOO. 


went to school. Off that wharf I used to fish on half-holi- 
days^ sitting through a soaking afternoon, and happy if I 
caught but an eel. Not a stone but had some memory to 
endear it to me. As I looked at it now, I remembered how 
often the vision of it would rise before me at sea; how in 
the dark night-watches I would wander in fancy among 
its narrow streets, push on to the sunny meadows, and iie 
basking on my back among the buttercups — pleasant rev- 
eries indeed, from which I have been aroused many a 
time by the swoosh of a sea over me, or a hoarse order to 
shorten sail. 

I was looking at the different vessels in the harbor 
with a critical and I daresay a contemptuous eye — my last 
voyage had been made in a vessel big enough to have 
shipped any one of these crafts as a long-boat; and large 
ships have a tendency to make one who is used to them 
look somewhat irreverently on topsail schooners and three- 
hundred-ton barks with stump topgallant-masts — when 
I caught myself observing with admiration a brig that lay 
close in against the headmost part of the opposite pier. 
She was certainly one of the handsomest models I had 
ever seen afloat: quite faultless, I thought, — her bows 
clean and sharp, her cutwater a graceful curve; with a 
lovely sweep aft, and just enough swell of the sides to 
promise stability. She was painted black with a white 
streak, and there were some pretty tracings of gilt- work 
converging to her figure-head, which was a mermaid, 
painted white; a contrast to the hideous figure-heads of 
the other vessels, most of which were vile representations 
of women colored so as to resemble life — the very eyes 
painted — and one of them a man in a bright blue coat and 
a tall black liat! Assuredly the French are our masters 
in designing figure-heads. 

I was pretty sure that Bayport was not her destination. 

I noticed that she had carried away her foretopgallant- 
yard; some hands were now aloft, sending the wrecked 
spar down on deck. This accident had most likely ha[>- 
pened in a collision, and I daresay she had scraped her 
side at the same, time, for a boy was over her port bow on 
a short stage, painting. Barring- the disfigurement of tin's 
• yard, which had snapped off clean as a carrot, midway 
between the bunt and starboard lift, her rigging and spars 
were as finished and taut as a man-of-war’s. Indeed she had 


LITTLE LOO. 


23 


somewhat the appearance of a Navy brig; her tops were 
largjB, she had short royal-mastlieads^ and she carried the 
old-fashioned channels^ which gave her lower-standing 
rigging a wide spread, and whole topsails with a long 
hoist to the masthead, and a great breadth of yards. 

I thought, under full sail, she would make a beautiful 
picture, and imaged her under all canvas on a tropical 
moonlight night, every sail full and quiet, standing like 
marble, and nothing audible but the wash of water at her 
sides. 

I turned my eyes from her, and walked away. In a 
few moments I had forgotten her existence. 


CHAPTEE Y. 

LITTLE LOO. 

Before that day was over I had made up my mind to 
start for London on the following Monday, and find a 
berth on board some vessel bound to India or China. I 
was quite qualified to serve as able seaman: I was tall and 
strong, smart up aloft, and knew the work to be done as 
well as I knew the alphabet. 

There was a chance of getting three pounds fifteen shil- 
lings a month, so that at the end of a twelve months’ 
voyage I might have earned enough money to keep me on 
shore for a few weeks; in which time I might hope to have 
passed an examination, and obtained an appointment as 
second mate. Having settled this matter in my mind, I 
felt easier. 

I killed the afternoon in walking about the town, and 
visited the churchyard where my father lay buried. The 
widow’s grief was expressed in a Jvery unhandsome man- 
ner; the stone was mean, and the grave neglected. But 
why should not Lick water divert any flowers that might 
be intended for the grave to his own button-hole; or, repre- 
sent that, as the dead were no longer capable of gr'^.titude 
or feeling, the cost of tending a grave was wasted money, 
which was to be much more profitably and comfortably 
spent at the butcher’s and the publican’s? 

I may have wished, perhaps, as I left the churchyard, 
that I could meet Lickwater at sea. J should have liked 


LITTLE LOO. 


24 

Lickwater to swing his hammock under the same dock 
with myself. 

As I was walking in a sentimental mood toward the 
harbor, an ihcident occurred which dispersed my melan- 
choly. At the corner of a street leading out into ‘;he 
main thoroughfare was a public-house of goodly exterior. 
Four negro minstrels had taken up a position opposite the 
door. One had a flute, two had fiddles, and the fourth a 
banjo.. 

The flute and one fiddle were the worse for drink, and 
the drunken fiddle happened to be a real negro, whereas 
the others were white men blackened. 

, I stopped to listen to the entertainment, and a crowd of 
sailors who were drinking at the bar blocked up the door- 
way of the public-house, whilst a number of persons stood 
in tlie road. 

The negro screwed his fiddle into his neck, but being 
drunk played out of tune and without time; and the flut- 
est, likewise drunk, fingered his flute yaguely, with sense 
enough to know there was no tune in what they were 
about, yet not perceiving how the proper tune was- to 
be come at. There was something richly absurd in the 
expression of their faces, and in- the angry looks which 
their companions darted at chem, 

^^Why don’t you keep time, you thief?” shouted the 
second fiddler to the negro. 

Who you call teef ?” responded the negro, keeping 
his fiddle posed, but suspending the movements of his 
hand, and gazing sideways at the man with his rolling 
white eyes. 

A quarrel instantly ensued: the negro struck at the 
man who had insulted him with his bow: whereupon the 
banjoist instantly roared out in a fine brogue, What, 
you villyan! would ye moorder me brother?” and crash! 
brought his banjo down on the head of the negro, whose 
woolly pate shot clean thiT)U'gh the skin. 

A moment after, fiddler number two let drive his fiddle 
at the luckless black’s head: the fiddle broke and jammed 
hard on the nigger’s skull: and now behold the negro wdth 
the remains of the banjo round his neck and the fiddle firmly 
lodged, like a new-fashioned hat, on his head. But the 
least vulnerable part of his body had been attacked! in a 
morn^i^t bo had stooped bis head and sent the fiddle into 


LITTLE LOO. 


26 


the Irishman’s stomach, then worked round sma.rfcly and 
pitched his formidable crown into the breast of the second 
fiddler. Down they went, but up they got again and all 
four fell to, amid the howls of laughter from the crowd, 
and broke their way into the public-house, and then fol- 
lowed, as you may believe, a pretty smashing of glass. 

The landlord stretched forth his body from an upper 
window and roared for the police; the crowd squeezed into 
the door of the public-house to see the fun, but were scat- 
tered like water by the negro rushing out with the fiddle 
on his head and the wreck of the banjo round his neck, 
chased by the other minstrels and a score of sailors. The 
pack fled along the street and were out of sight in a 
moment. 

I had no fancy to call upon the people I knew in Bay- 
port. Two reflections made me sensitive: first, that my 
father had married a vulgar dressmaker, and, secondly, 
that I was as good as a beggar and about to turn Jack 
Swab, which things when known (and I was no craft to 
sail in the wind’s eye) might earn me that detestable joint 
the cold shoulder, and frighten people with the notion 
that I had a particular motive in calling. ^ 

Indeed, sailors are the most sensitive people iir the 
world, for reasons which it would 1)e scarcely worth while 
to enter into a rigmarole here to explain, and I was no 
exception to the rule. 

So I returned to the hotel, meaning to kill the evening 
in the smoking-room; and next day I would turn to and 
lay in a proper*forecastle outfit, and be off to the East-end 
Docks by Monday. 

On nearing the White Hart I observed the brown beauty, 
whose eyes had fascinated me in the morning, sitting in a 
balcony that ran in a line with the coffee-room window. 
Her arms were upon the balcony-rail, and she was looking- 
out to sea with pensive, dreamy eyes. Her soft, dark hair 
was stirred by the summer wind, and her parted lips and 
fixed gaze shojved her deep in thought. 

I would have given a good deal for leave to join her. 
There was a tender, womanly expression on her face at 
this time infinitely seductive. I seemed to crave for the 
delight of hearing her voice, to win her eyes to my face, 
and talk to her about myself. 

A landsman would have known how to go to work to 


36 


LITTLE LOO. 


get an introduction. I was too shy even to admit to my- 
self that an introduction might be practicable if sought. 
One feels one’s social wants deplorably after a long spell 
at sea. 

There is nothing more dismally awkward than a sailor, 
newly-returned from a long cruise, among ladies. No 
wonder seamen are not popular with girls, when the man 
who can control a ship and feel (as the spider along his 
line) the life of a thousand tons of bulk in the slender 
spoke of a wiieel cannot hand a cup of tea a yard, without 
capsizing it over a dress, or sliding down with it upon the 
carpet. This is no caricature of the truth. The favorite 
yarns among sailors are those which tell of their em- 
barrassments and awkwardness among ladies. 

I asked Transom (whom I found perched behind a 
glass bulkhead) the name of the lady. 

The lady with brown eyes and blushing cheeks, Tran- 
som — the English beauty oliarged with the spirit of an 
Indian goddess, my dear; whose companion is a hand- 
some man with a reddish beard.” 

I know,” says Transom; but he had to find the name 
in his entry-book before he could deliver it, Miss 
FEAKELIil,” 

Who is her friend?” 

^‘Captain LuciuS\Franklin.” 

‘^Ah! brother and sister?” 

No doubt. He's too young to be her father. I rather 
admire her myself, Mr. Chad burn. But, lord! when a 
fellow is trying to make a hotel pay, he hasn’t much time 
to trouble iiimself about the facesot his ‘ arrivals.’ It’s 
orders that concern him.” 

‘^Have you got her Christian name?” 

‘^^No,” said he in his matter-of-fact way; ‘^but I rather 
think it’s Louisa. I may be wrong — but I fancy I heard 
him call her Loo when thby cam§ here and asked for 
rooms.” 

I should have liked to put some more questions — hoiv 
long they had been at the hotel, where they came from, 
who they were? — but I felt I might easily make my-self 
ridiculous, without justification to myself, and that, per- 
haps, his business instincts would not much appreciate 
my curiosity. 


LITTLE LOO. 


27 


CHAPTER VI. 

A BERTH. 

That night I was in the smoking-room, my legs on a 
chair, and pulling drowsily at a pipe. I liad been much 
about in the day and was tired. 

Three men, all strangers to each other when they had 
entered the room, had chummed, and with chairs drawn 
close, sat smoking cigars and discussing business. (Eight 
and an ^arf per cent, vvas mentioned more than once.) I 
found out by their Talk that they were all three com- 
mercial travelers;, and vulgar creatures enough; loud in 
their laughter, sweetly ungrammatical, and great boasters. 

They talked as if they knew I was listening, as if they 
wished me to listen that they might affect me by a sense 
of their consequence. I was never so modest, but that 1 
could express contempt for people of this kind, and osten- 
tatiously slewed my chair round, and gave them the 
benefit of my back, hoping they would take the hint and 
restrict their brag to each other’s ear by lowering their 
voices. 

Whether they acted upon this hint or not, I do not 
know, but to my great comfort they got up presently, 
drained their glasses, lighted fresh cigars, and after exam- 
ining their faces in the looking-glass, with various speeches 
at me, though to each other, to the effect that the gii’ls 
who had followed them about that afternoon and. almost 
forced appointments upon them-^they wore as handsome 
as monkeys, the coxcombs! and one of them had a broken 
nose — must not be kept waiting any longer; they slouched 
out of the room, leaving behind them such an effluvium 
of cheap cigar that I put a chair to the window to keep 
it wide open. 

As they went out, the man whose name I now knew was 
Captain Franklin, came in. 

‘^That’s right!” cried he, seeing me handling the chair 
at the window; ^Miere’s an atmosphere that wants breez- 
ing. Bad as the hold of a ship freighted with jihospluite 
manure.” 

He sjioke with a slight nasal twang. I had not noticed 


28 


LITTLE LOO. 


tliis when he addressed me on the sands. He looked hot 
and tired as a man who had been hard at'work all day. He 
drew an armchair from the corner^ pulled a bell, and 
housed his legs along another chair. 

Do you drink?’’ said he, as the waiter came in. 

t said I would take some cold brandy and water. 

And bring me — but you’ll forget it — so I’ll write it 
down,” he exclaimed; and pulling out the blank leaf of a 
letter and a pencil, he wrote a prescription, which he read 
aloud with great emphasis to the waiter, and a wonderful 
dose it was: Half a gill of rum, half a gill of Scotch 
whisky, a small glass of cura9oa, one thin slice of lemon 
with the peel on, a jug of cold water, and be hanged to 
the teetotalers, a lump of ice, and some white sugar.” 

The waiter took the paper with a lively face of bewilder- 
ment, and left the room. 

Captain Franklin now produced a large wooden pipe, 
and while he loaded it from a capacious bag, he exclaime<l, 
eying me attentively, — 

Were you tire man I swam with this morning?” 

Yes,” said I. 

thought I had met you elsewhere; but I remember 
now. You’re a sailor, I should think.” 

That’s what I am, sir.” 

^^Have you been about the harbor?” 

^WYes.” 

Taken notice of the shipping?” 

I nodded. 

I suppose you saw nothing to please you?” 

There’s a brig with a white figure-head down against 
the pier that delights me. A smarter-looking vessel I 
never saw,” said I, pretty well guessing what was coming. 

She’s the Little Loo, and I command her.” 

Oh, indeed?” 

Yes, and own her too.” 

I should like to be you, sir.” 

I daresay you would,” cried he with a loud laugh, 

^^Come,” thought I, ‘^you’re pretty self-satisfied, and 
in consequence ought to be a goodnatured man; but that 
may not be, either.” 

I had a nice bout of it the other night,” said he, lying 
back and smoking leisurely, evidently pleased to find him- 
self in company with a listener, and a man who could uii- 


LITTLE LOO. , 


29 


derstand his nautical lingo. lumping French ship to 

windward of me suddenly starboards her helm, and runs 
right down as if she would cross my bpws. I roared out 
to her to mind her helm, and keep the brig away, tliinking 
she would go under my stern. 'Not she! in a few minutes 
she had the wind out of my sails, and when her jib- 
boom is not a cable’s length off, round flies her wheel, and 
she ranges alongside. She lost me my fore-top-gallant 
yard; a little more, and she would have lost me my brig. 
Why are Frenchmen allowed to go to sea? They’re worse, 
sailors than the Chinese, and infinitely more dangerous, 
because the junkers sticlc to their own waters, but your 
Frenchmen shove their noses everywliere. I understood a 
■fellow, who looked to be skipper — a hulking, yellow-faced 
gommeril, with mustaches like marlin-spikes, sing out 
that it was all my fault. ^Your fault, sare, sacrS ton- 
nerreP If I had carried guns I should have swept liis 
decks. I was in a temper to enjoy the sight of his dirty- 
breeched crew hopping to a broadside!” 

Is the Little Loo outward bound?” I asked. 

He answered in the affirmative, and inquired what ship I 
belonged to. I replied that I belonged to no ship at 
present. 

What sort of ships are you used to?” said he. 

^^Big ships.” 

You have no fancy for small vessels?” 

Why, I have no fancy for Geordies, but I think I 
could put up with the command of a vessel like the Little 
Loo. But to speak the truth, jiiSt now I have a fancy, I 
think, for anything I could get.” 

Here he seemed disposed to let the conversation drop. 

I don’t think he understood my small joke about putting- 
up with the command of his brig. 

What are you?” he said, after a pause, and speaking 
abruptly; a mate?” 

Yes,” said I; not much caring to own that I was only 
a fourth mat^. Does your brig want a mate, sir?” 

‘‘Ho. If she did, how long do you think she would be 
without one? We’re all mates and masters^ nowadays. 
What I want is men — able seamen — not mates. I must 
ship a couple more hands in the forecastle.” 

‘‘ What pay?” said I. 


30 


LITTLE LOO. 


He looked hard at me and answered, Three pounds 
ten shillings a month. The Little Loo^s not a teetotaler.’’ 

I fixed my eyes on his face, closely considered the cut of 
his jib, recalled the beautiful model down in the harbor, 
swallowed some brandy and water, and said to myself. 

Shall I offer to ship? Here is a smart vessel; there may 
be worse skippers than this man.” I added aloud, Where 
are you bound to, sir?” 

‘‘Sydney, New South. Wales.” 

“ If you want more hands, I am willing to sign articles 
for the voyage as A.B.” 

“ I thougiit you were coming to that,” he said coolly, 
taking me in from head to foot with a twinkle of satisfac- 
tion in his eye. “ But what’s your object in coming down 
to this work? want to pick up seamanship?” 

“ Not quite that, sir. I’m your man if you’ll have me.” 

“All right.” 

“ When do you sail?” 

“ The day after to-morrow.” 

I told him that I would sign articles, but could not turn 
out next day— I bad clothes to get; but I would bring my 
chest on board in the evening. 

He asked me if I should require an advance. I told 
him no; I was going to sea to earn some money, and did 
not want to spend any part of my wages before I sailed. 

He seemed well pleased to have got me as one of his 
crew. I was young, strong and liearty, and might hope, 
I trust, to be superior — not indeed in seamanship, but in 
conduct — to the general run of men who form small ships’ 
crews; and no man knows better than a shipmaster the 
value of sober, educated men in the forecastle, where their 
example often operates as a restraint upon their mates, 
whilst their good sense serves them better than enforced 
habits of discipline. 

For fear that I might change my mind, for I daresay 
my resolution puzzled him, and he might reasonably dis- 
trust my inclinations after a night’s reflection, he made 
himself good company, ordered in more drink, and related 
some lively 3Tarns, being sagacious qiiough to imagine tlial 
as I would now look upon him as my skipper, his freedom 
bonhomie would be duly appreciated by me. How- 
ever, though liis manner pleased me well enough, it did 
not succeed in making me feel quite sure that he VTas the 


LITTLE LOO. 


31 


warm-hearted, easy-going man he represented himself to 
be in some of his stories; his eyes were too blue and cold, 
his handsome face too wooden, not to take a little of the 
persuasiveness out of his words. 

But I had not the slightest wish to draw back. The 
position my father’s death had placed me in was precisely 
the kind to inspire just such a reckless, adventurous spirit 
as would lay hold of the first chance that offered. One 
part of the world was a good as another to me then; and 
it mattered little in which hemisphere I kicked my heels; 
since I had no tie^ to bind me, no home to refer my hopes 
and ambition to. The world was all before me, indeed, 
and my star could scarcely be paler and lower on the 
horizon than it was now. 


CHAPTER VII. 

I SIGil THE ship’s ARTICLES. 

The clothes and linep I had purchased in London were 
very good wear for the poop or quarter-deck, but would 
not do me much service in my new station forward of the 
mast. 

Accordingly, next morning, after breakfasting without 
meeting Captain Franklin or his sister, I repaired to a 
slop-shop up in the town, where I witnessed a scene which 
may be worth repeating, as it is a sample of the treatment 
sailors meet with from harpies ashore. 

The shop was kept by a man named Aarons, a new- 
comer during my absence from Bayport. A rough En - 
glish sailor was having an altercation with him when I 
entered. Behind a counter stood a youth, who might bo 
Aarons’ son. All around were suspended coats, waistcoats, 
and the like, with piles of colored shirts on shelves, boots 
and shoes, tarpaulin gear, belts, caps, in short, every kind 
of article held necessary by the outfitters to the equipment 
of Jack. 

Aarons stood in the middle of his shop: he \vas a little 
man with a beautiful lisp, and every limb quivered with 
excitement. The sailor towered opposite, and was curs- 
ing him for a common thief. 

Here let him decidel” he shouted as I entered. 


32 


LITTLE LOO. 


Mate, here’s a ” (scmething) furriner as wants to make 
out I 0 )^ him seven pound for three days’ lodgin’ in a 
shanty where the gals does nothen but fry fish all day. 
He’s got an advance note o’ mine, and offers wot he calls 
a pound’s worth o’ breeches as change. AVhy, you little 
comber!” he roared, suddenly turning on Aarons, do 
you mean to tell me them breeches are worth a pound?” 
and he pointed with indescribable disgust to a pair of 
secondhand trousers which dangled on Aarons’ arm. 

^‘ How, thir, will you listen?” said Aarons, coming up 
to me insinuatingly. I can thee that you’re a gent, and 
fair’s fair vith gents, and a bargain’s aTbargain. Here’s a 
t bailor as corned to my pooty little house — ” 

^MVot do you call it, you villain? — pooty! you mean 
footy, and be— etc.,” cried the sailor. 

^‘1 says pooty, thir,” replied Aarons with dignity; 
rale '^geraniums in the vindies, I give you my vord ” 
(this to me), and picturs as vould be vorth their veight 
in gold, if they VOS framed in iron, hung in the parlor and 
bedrooms. Do I tell liesh, or is this true, Izzy?” 

True! if the gent doubts he can go and look. There’s 
nothing to pay,” replied the youth behind the counter. 

iou hear wot my son says, thir,” continued- the 
excited Aarons; veil, this man corned civilly and 
axes for lodgings— veil, I give him my terms. Yell, 
he is very pleashed. He eats and drinks like a king 
^ — biled and roast fowl for dinner, heggs and fish for 
breakfast, proper puddens every day — the cookin’ up to 
the hammer, thir. Yell, he gets drunk once, twice, 
four times, seven times — that’s all— seven times vilst he 
lives in my house, thir; my girl Kachel grows veak hi the 
knee-caps vith vaitiid on him vith liquor — the best o’ 
liquor — proper Drench hodeevee, bloomin’ Jamaikey rum, 
and ’Ollands from the right place — the thailor don’t know 
vat he drinks, for he’s drunk ven he drinks, and ven I 
s]Deak o’ the cost, he kicks over the table, and says, ^ Damn 
the expense!’ But^^ (lowering his voice to a key, the sin- 
gularity of which is not to be put on paper) ven I show 
him my bill — hevery charge so shmall that it’s ruination 
to look at ’em; and offer to let it stand at eight pound and 
throw in a first-class article at a price that’s like givin’ of 
them avay — he calls me vicked names!” Here he stopped 
to take breath. 


LITTLE LOO. 


33 


The sailor then began afresh; Aarons answered, and, to 
improve the shindy, Izzy stepped in with a slirMl voice. 
So, to save my hearing, I bolted out of the shop, paying 
no heed to Aarons’ shrieks to me to sh top, that he was the 
cheapest man in Bayport, and gave beautiful value for 
money. I could render the sailor no help; he was in wily 
hands; besides it was a sample of a standing nautical 
grievance which is not to be redressed. 

In all probability the case stood thus: Aarons was a 
crimp; Ce., a person who keeps a lodging-house for sail- 
ors, and furnishes men to ships in want of crews. The 
sailor had doubtless come to Aarons’ house without money 
in his pocket. In a day or two Aarons gets him a ship, 
offers to cash the advance-note, but finds that the sailor’s 
score at the lodging-house is something less than the money 
thus obtained. The sailor is made drunk with poisonous 
distillations, and there are Aarons and Aaronesses in plenty 
to swear to his orders, whether he gave them or not. ISio 
use, thinks Aarons, in giving theaailor a sovereign change, 
so he offers him a pair of second-hand breeches instead, 
and secures the going-on-board of the sailor (for if the 
sailor did not ship, the advance-note would be worthless) 
by privately conveying the plundered man’s poor clothes 
to the vessel. 

In a word, the system of advance-notes is at the bottom 
of the robberies perpetrated on sailors, and is as great a 
curse to Jack as drink. Until those notes are done away 
with, slop-sellers and crimps must do a roaring ^rade.* 

I made my way to another slop-shop — there were a 
dozen such stores in Bayport — and rendered cautious by 
the bit of sailor plucking I had just witnessed, drove some 
hard bargains, and succeeded, I verily believe, in persuad- 
ing the shopkeeper that I was in his own line and deeply 
versed (though reticent) in wholesale prices. 

A sailor’s wants, in the shape of wearing apparel, seem 
few, and are few if one may judge from the extent and 
quality of the wardrobes with which many of us go pro- 
vided. Some things there are, however, which there is 
no getting on without at all; Le- the belt and knife, the 
sea-boots, the woolen stockings, the sou’- wester, and the 

* Since this was written, they have been done away with — but to 
-aiO purpose. 


34 


LITTLE LOO, 


stout shirts to wear next the skin. Yet I have known 
men to ship without more clothes than the shirt and 
trousers on them, being as destitute as any pauper out of 
a workhouse, and more naked. 

These men have to depend on the kindness of their 
mates (who are often badly off for clothes) for the loan of 
a coat or a pair of breeches and boots in bitter weather; 
and more than once I have seen a man go aloft with naked 
feet and in loose canvas trousers when the rigging has been 
hard and black with frost, and my own hands aching even 
in the shelter of stout mittens; not because the man did 
not 'feel the cold,’^ but because he had no boots and 
dra^vers to put on. However, I am bound in justice to 
admit that the sailor who is reduced to this condition has 
most times only himself to thank. 

Having signed articles, my next business was to board 
the brig to have a look at her. The water was high in 
the harbor and the vessel’s bulwarks level with the pier, 
so I could have a good look at her before stepping over 
the side. 'She had more beam than I imagined; her deck 
was flush fore and aft, and very white for a merchantman. 
Her deck fittings, such as the galley, companion, skylights, 
&c., were plain, but sound and solid. Her boats were 
also 'good, and, what was the real miracle, her long-bcTat 
was stowed clear of all spars, the live stock, which con- 
sisted of hens and ducks, not being kept in^ but under 
the boat in coops. 

They had crossed a new fore-top-gallant yard and were 
bending the sail, two fellows being astride at the yard- 
arms. A square-built man, in a straw hat and a loose 
suit of serge stood aft with his hand over his eyes, looking 
at the men aloft. This, thought I, must be the mate. 

^As I stepped on board, he sang out in a rough voice, — 

Hallo! what do you want here?” 

To have a look at the brig,” said I. 

He stared and asked me what I was. I ans^vered, An 
able seaman.” 

D’ye w^ant to ship?” he inquired. 

Oh, said I, Tve signed articles for this brig.” 

He looked surprised, and took in my dress from head 
to foot, and was going to say something; but just then 
the captaiircame out of the cabin, which, from the glimpse 
I could catch of it through an open skylight, looked to 


LITTLE LOO. 


35 


be a comfortable interior^ carpeted like a roorn^ with a 
swinging lamp from the deck, a table traveling on stan- 
chions, and a short row of berths on either hand. There 
was every suggestion of a good comfortable sea- parlor and 
bedrooms, though certainly, after being used to the long 
handsome cuddies or salons of India and China passenger- 
ships, this cabin, or as much as I saw of it, at least, did 
not greatly impress me. 

But good or bad it was, all the same to me; for my berth 
was forward. 

Oh, here you are,^’ said Captain Franklin when he 
spied me. We shall tow out to-morrow at four. Was 
it you who said you couldn’t be aboard before to-night?” 

^^Yes, sir.” 

Infernally awkward, there’s a heap of work to be 
done. I have got another hand coming, and I reckon he 
wants nothing but spectacles and a choker to make him 
fit for a chaplain,” he said with a grin. ISTow take your 
last look aft, you belong forrard, my man, and there are 
no misters there. You’ll pick up a deal of useful knowl- 
edge in this brig; and if you show yourself smart, depend 
on it we sha’n’t quarrel.” 

I took a turn round the deck and a peep down the fore- 
scuttle. The mate stared at me hard, as lywent *to tlie 
vessel’s side, and sung out, ‘‘Hi, you! have^yon signed?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Bring your chest along then, for there’s work to be 
done.” 

“ I’ll come when I’m ready, and that’ll be this evening,” 
I answered, to let him know that I was no ship’s dog yet. 
He scowled, but bullying me was of no use, and might 
lose the brig a strapping young seaman. So he said no 
more, and I went over the side on to the pier. 


CHAPTEK YIII. 

on HOARD SHIP. 

When it was evening I went to my bedroom in the 
hotel and there figged myself out in my forecastle rig. 
This consisted of a pair of coarse cloth trousers, a colored 
Linstarched shirt, a belt and knife, a jacket and a cnp. Ail 


30 


LITTLE LOO. 


these clothes were new, but happily for me they were the^ 
integuments of no greenhorn. I was fresh from a longer 
Toyage than perhaps Captain Franklin himself had ever 
taken in his life; and though- my hands were not so rough 
as they ought to have been for a forcastle man’s, yet 
they had dori^ xheir share of work on board ship in their 
day. Kouse up your spirits, old boy!” I said to my- 
self. You’re not about to start on your first voyage, 

and you’ll show them that you know something more- 
than the difference between a marlin-spike and a pair of 
sea-boots.” 

I went downstairs to pay my bill and say good-by to 
Transom. I found him in his old quarters behind the 
glass bulkhead. He looked at me with a comical expres- 
sion of astonishment, and shouted, Hallo! are you go- 
ing to a masked ball?” 

Yes,” said I. I have received an invitation to one to 
be held in the Pacific, but I reckon upon having enough 
dancing before I get there.” And I then told him I had 
signed articles for tlie forecastle of the LitUe Loo, 

Well!” he cried, smothering his surprise, ^^a man 
must live. I suppose the sea’s your taste: but give me a 
yard of dry land before the biggest ship in the world. A 
happy voyage to you, Mr. Ohadburn. I don’t doubt that 
your pluck will win a happy reward.” 

I shook his outstretched hand warmly, and asked what 
I owed for my accommodation. 

Yothing but a letter when you are in the mind to 
write, to tell me you are well,” he answered. 

I was much affected by his liberality, and felt it the 
more keenly through my being about to quit my native 
home, and having never a friend in all the wide world (if 
I except this honest fellow) to care twopence whether I 
returned or not. But T saw that expostulation would be 
wasted, so with a hearty thank you ” I parted from him. 
However, on my way to the brig I stepped into a jeweler’s 
shop and bought a scarf-pin, which I desired the man to 
send to Transom with a card on which I wrote: To be 
ept until Jack Ohadburn asks for it.” 

On reaching the brig I found the decks washed down, 
all running gear clear, and the hands below cleaning them- 
selves. I had hired a fellow to bring my sea-chest and 


LITTLE LOO. 


37 


bedding along, and these being got on deck, I jumped. on 
board and took a squint down the forecastle-hatch. 

Hallo!” roared a voice directly under me. ^MVhat 
sort of stuff IS this here bulks eye made on? You can’t 
see the sky through it. I’ll swear.” 

This was a delicate hint to me to get out of the light, 
and came from a man combing his rope-yarnish locks in a 
fragment of looking-glass. 

Give us a hand with my chest, will you?” said I. 

Pass it along, pass it along!” growled he; and having 
slung my traps below, I followed. 

I was now in the brig’s forecastle. Ho English reader 
will require to be told that the forecastle of a ship em- 
braces all that forward part of the deck which lies about 
the bows. In many ships topr gallant forecastles are used; 
these are pratically deck-houses; they are entered by. 
doors on the main deck as well as by the scuttle above, 
but are scarcely more lightsome than the forecastles of 
flush-decked ships owing to the windlass, foremast, galley, 
long-boat, and other such things obstructing the light. 

The Little .JLoo’s forecastle was below the deck, with a 
floor economically pitched to an altitude above the hold 
(so as to leave a good depth of fore peak and stowage-room 
abaft). A lamp burned day and night, swinging from an 
already-blackened beam, and by the misty flare I observed 
four or five sailors trimming themselves up for a couple of 
hours’ liberty ashore, whilst others lay in their bunks 
smoking, waiting for their mates to clear out. 

Eortunately there were no hammocks slung, so we could 
get about without doubling our backs in halves. There 
were bunks enough and to spare for the men, for the 
carpenter and sailmaker (who, I afterward discovered, did 
duty as second m.ate and boatswain — a nautical Jack- of-alG 
trades) lived with two apprentices and the cook in a house 
abaft the galley. 

I shipped my bedding in a spare bunk, and hoisted 
myself into it and had a look around. It was not easy to 
see what the men were like by the smoky light of the 
lamp, but I thought that the heel of a windsail let down 
the scuttle would do the atmosphere no harm, for what 
with the Steam and heat from the men washing them- 
selves, the smell of the burning oil, the aroma of tarpau- 
lins, old bedding, slush, junk, and stale salt water, — upon 


88 


LITTLE LOO. 


mj i\’ord it was more than a seasoned cockroach could 
have stood. 

The men bantered each other and hammered away with 
their tongues in many queer dialects. Some of the names 
they called each other by, and which, no doubt, had been 
appended to the ship’s articles, the men making across 
against the signature (for how many of them could write?), 
were curious. One was Lucky Billy, another Little 
Welchy, probably through his being a Welshman, another 
Liverpool Sam, another Snoring Jimmy, and another 
Beauty Blunt. That their mothers and fathers had given 
them such names was scarcely to be supposed. 

The truth is, sailors of this description frequently ship, 
in the first instance, under assumed names, for no reason 
that ever I could make out. Mental or physical peculiar- 
ities afterward obtain for them nicknames from their 
shipmates; these they adhere to, eventually forgetting the 
names they were born with. 

I cleared out of the forecastle presently to get some air, 
and watched the men go ashore. It was the last night they 
would have for many a long day, and the order was to be on 
board again at half-past ten. Three of them were going to. 
the theater, , and with their well-soaped faces, oiled hair, 
hands which no extracts from the slush-pot would cleanse 
froth the tar, clean shirts and Scotch caps, looked very 
brilliant specimens of sea dandies. 

All hands went ashore with the exception of myself, the 
cook,., and a boy. As for me. Bay port offered me no 
further temptations to leave the vessel. Besides, in the 
absence of the men, I could get my sea-chest snugged and 
my bunk rigged out, and have a look about me to see into 
what sort of a job my destiny had led me. 

When I had made myself snug below, I got on to the 
deck again, and here the cook, a fat, pale London man, 
known to me now and for ever afterward by the single ap- 
pellation of Scum, joined me, and we yarned together. I 
asked him questions about the skipper and mate, but he 
either had no decided opinions, about them, or was inca- 
pable of expressing what he knew. He told me that the 
brig sailed well, and that she wanted all the hands she 
carried, for everything was new, and the running gear 
worked heavily, and that the skipper ivas a regular New 
England man for, carrying-on,^’ by which is meant driv- 


LITTLE LOO. 


39 


ing tho VGssol with canvn.?. I found out from him tliab 
the brig was freighted with a general cargo, among which 
were some cases of rifles and cartridges for the Australian 
market. So stand by for a blow up/’ said he consol- 
ingly. ^ 

This was a lovely evening, with a moon in the soutli, 
and the heavens beautiful with stars. As the twilight 
vanished, the masts and rigging of the brig grew indistinct, 
and looked like a delicate cobweb stretclied under the sky, 
the yards forming massive dark lines against the stars. 

The lights of the town glittered in the tranquil water of 
the harbor, and the houses formed a shadowy rugged 
pile over them. The voices of men crying their wares in 
the streets, the rattling of wheels, the plash of oars, the 
sounds of a band of music a long way ofl, combined to fill 
the calm air with a strangely-pleasing and melodious 
undertone. 

I remained on deck until half-past nine, and then be- 
thinking me that sleep would be valuable since we were to 
be knocked up at four next morning, I was about to go 
below, when 1 observed a man coming along the pier, stag- 
gering wildly as he walked, and so drunk that I every mo- 
ment expected to see him pitch headlong into the water. 

If the man belonged to the brig, there was a large chance 
of his going overbocird as he came down the steeply- in- 
clined ladder that stretched from the pier to the bulwark, 
for the water in the harbor was low, and we lay some 
twelve or thirteen feet under the pier. 

I stayed to watch, and lend him a hand if need should 
arise, and well I did. 

He came lurching'along, talking to himself in a thick, 
drunken voice, and stopped close against the head of the 
ladder, swaying his body, and evidently not sure that the 
brig was his vessel; perhaps he saw two brigs, and was 
puzzled to know the right one. 

I sung out to advise him not to try the ladder alone, 
that I would go and lend him a hand, and walked to the 
gangway; but he muttered back, — 

Who are you? Mind y’rs’f!” 

And seeing me advancing, he put his foot over the side, 
missed the ladder and fell. I saw his body whiz down, 
and heard the heavy splash as he struck the water, and 
shouting to the cook, who was in the galley, that a man 


40 


LITTLE LOO. 


was overboard, pulled of my coat, flung down' the coil of 
the main -topsail halyards^ paid out the end overboard, 
belayed, and slipped down the side of the vessel. 

My fear was that the ipan would strike his head as he 
fell, for the brig lay close to the pier, at a distance of not 
more'than six feet; but as I dropped into the water, he 
rose against my feet. I grabbed him by the collar, and 
kept his head out of water. 

Luckily he was so stupidly drunk that he made no stir, 
but lay like a dead man in my hold. I bawled to the cook 
to send down a running- bowline, which I contrived to slip 
under the fellow’s arms; I then told cookee to haul taut 
and belay, by which the man was supported in the water 
breast-high. There we should have been serving him 
properly to have left him for an hour. However, I re- 
gained the deck, and assisted by the cook and a b^y, fished 
Jiim up. 

We rolled him forward and let him lie all dripping. 
The cook, as he bent down to look at the man, just said, — 
He’s the new hand as shipped this morning. He’s got 
enough water in him now to soak the rum he’s been stow- 
ing,” and walked to his deck-house, to turn in. 

A man never gets any compliments at sea, and no pity. 


CHAPTEE IX. 

U II D E R W A Y . 

I GOT into my bunk and fell asleep much sooner than I 
had thought the oppressive atmosphere would have per- 
mitted me. 

What time the men came aboard, and in what condition, 
I did not know: I don’t suppose they were very punctual, 
but they made no noise; and in this respect a forecastle is 
as well governed by the internal and tacit understanding 
that subsists among the hands as a congregation in a church 
or any assembly where silence is maintained. The watch be- 
low, or men whose turn it is to sleeji, are jealously guarded 
by their mates from disturbance. 

This is quite reasonable and for the general good; for 
at sea no man can tell how long his sleep is to remain un- 
broken during the four hours he is suffered to stay below. 


LITTLE LOO. 41 

wliether days and nights may not pass before he shall close 
his eyes again. 

When 1 awoke I heard the harbor clock strike two, and 
four bells tolled on some large vessel in the harbor. The 
forecastle resounded with a deep chorus of snores and 
gasps, and by the doubtful light of the lamp I might see 
the men lying in their bunks, some with their legs dangluig 
over the sides, some with their heels higher than their 
heads, their bearded faces glimmering like corpses in the 
gloom of the cribs. One man sat upon the deck Lascar- 
fashion, his back against a sea-chest, his arms folded and 
his head supported on his knee-caps, sound asleep. 

This was the fellow who had fallen overboard, and the 
trumpeting through his nose resembled the groaning of 
fenders scraped by a ship’s side against a granite wall. 

A man needed to have served an apprenticeship to the 
sea to sleep amid the crash of this nose-orchestra. Luckily 
for me I had been shipmates and in the same Avatch with 
an apprentice whose snore was as the blowing of a whale 
alongside a ship on a dead night. I could therefore 
present d. pickled ear to this morphean clamor, and with 
little ado closed my eyes and fell asleep again. 

Bang! bang! overheard, followed by a voice like a gale 
of wind shouting doAvn the forecastle, ^‘Be-low there! All 
hands! up with you, my lads!” 

Life had begun in earnest, and in a feAV minutes the 
crew Avere on deck. 

It Avas broad dayliglit, Avith a fresh wind bloAving off 
shore and a breezy sky. The smoke from the tug that 
was to toAv us clear of the bay Avas bloAving sharp off from 
the funnel aAvay to sea. Some of the pier Avatch were on 
the look-out to give us a hand if help were Avanted; other- 
wise no living creature was to be seen about the ha^rbor. 
The early light lay cold and gray upon the town, but the 
sun was already on the horizon and the sky in that 
quarter was growing splendid Avith the kindling silver 
brilliance. 

The brig’s. haAvser was ready forward, and presently the 
tug came backing up to us, and a line was thrown, to 
Avhich the hawser was bent and drawn on board the tug. 
It was a short job to liberate the brig from her moorings 
alongside the pier, and then the tug forged ahead, canted 
our bows out, and sent us gliding into the middle of the 


42 


LITTLE LOO. 


harbor with our helm hard-a-starboafd. Round we came 
and our bowsprit pointed seaward with the tug ahead. 

All ready I'he paddle-wheels splash, the warp strains 
and sings, and in a moment the piers are moving past on 
either hand and the open sea is before us. 

As we are swept forward, the foam from the paddles 
frotliing up against our bows and the brig dancing in the 
quick tide-race, the order is given to loose the jib and 
stay-sails. 'The lacing slides up the stays and the canvas 
flaps cheerily. These are followed by dl^e top -sails, and 
as I go aloft to loose the foresail, sailors and idlers man 
the topsail halyards and masthead the yards with a hearty 
chorus. 

Here from my perch I had a good view of the' land to 
starboard and the blue water of the English Channel. 
The soaring sun had now kindled all manner of glories 
about the still slumbering town, making every sea-fronting 
‘window a blazing beacon; beautiful were the green slopes 
of the shore, the pale yellow sands, the visionary amber 
distances, and the rocky outline of the coast fining down 
into the west. The fresh warm wind sung in my ears; it 
was impossible not to feel the exhilaration of the gay windy 
morning. 

As our top-sails and fore and aft canvas drew, the hawser 
connecting us with the steam-boat slackened into a bight. 
It struck me that, were we to set our courses and top- 
gallant sails, we should run the steam-boat down. It was 
like spurring a willing horse to tow the brig in such a 
breeze; but this was the skipper’s business. 

The tug left us when abreast of a three-mile sea-mark, 
and as she steamed out of our road and headed for the 
harbor, she gave us a cheer, which we returned. No time 
is allowed for sentiment at sea, or the departure of this 
last link that held us to the old country would have set 
me thinking, with my arms on the forecastle rail and my 
eyes on the blue land. 

All plain sail was now to be made, and the crew had a 
handful in sheeting home the royals and top-gallant sails 
and setting the trysail and outer and flying jib. The cook 
had spoken the truth when he complained of tlie running 
gear; the sheaves^traveled hard; we had to clap on watch- 
tackles to bring the topsail leeches .taut, and I, being Used 
to full-rigged ships, found myself a little bothered as to 


LITTLE LOO, 


43 


the leading of some of the rigging of this two-masted con- 
cern. 

With the main tack aboard, and the wind a couple of 
points abaft the beam, the Little Loo began to exhibit her 
sailing qualities. She raised the soapsuds on her weather 
bow pretty nearly as high as the cathead, and it was like 
looking out of a railway window to glance over her lee 
bulwarks and see the frcthand strings of seaweed rushing 
past, and the wind of her lower canvas scurrying in dart- 
ing, irregular lines along the water. 

The decks having been cleared, the crew mustered aft to 
be divided into v/afches. I was in the port or chief mate’s 
watch (the starboard watch was in charge of the boatswain 
and carpenter), for which I was sorry, as there was some- 
thing in t\x,e cut of the man’s face I did not like. 

Let me describe him. He had one of those heavy 
mouths which the mind instinctively appropriates to bully 
at sea and the prize-fighter and ruffian ashore. One point 
I quickly took notice of was that there was a permanent 
reference in all he did to the opinion of the skipper. From 
this one had a right to infer an amount of zeal that might 
be found very disagreeable by the crew; besides, if the 
skipper was a bully, here was a man who would take a 
special delight in topping his views and dealings. He was 
scarcely a man that a romantic young lady would fall in 
love with. His right eye had a cast, and the man called 
Lucky Billy hinted that the reason of it was, he was in the 
habit of sleeping with that eye open and always looking to 
windward with it, whereby he at once got the nickname 
of Old Windward among us, though his real name was 
Nicholas Sloe. 

For the rest, his figure was altogether out of proportion; 
he was all body and no legs, measuring,,! daresay, fifty 
inches round the chest, and when his arms hung down, his 
fingers reached below his knees. A quantity gf dry, stout, 
red hair grew upon his throat, but none upon his face; his 
nose was just a pair of nostrils protected by an irregular - 
outline, and he had large, sound, white teeth, such a brill- 
iant set that, had not they been too big to be artificial, I 
should have believed them false. Such was Old Wind- 
ward, sometimes Old Nick, first mate of the Little Loo. 

We were now set to wash the deck down, scrubbing- 
brushes were routed out, the head-pump rigged, and 


44 


LITTLE LOO. 


buckets passed along. The captain had gone below, 
leaving the deck in charge of Old Windward who prowled 
about with his hands in his pockets, squinting at me more 
often than I liked, watching how I scrubbed, and plainly 
on the look-out to give me a taste of his politeness. I 
took care to thwart his kind inclinations by doing my 
best; but as I scrubbed, watching anxiously for the sluice 
of water as it was delivered out of the buckets along the 
deck, and pounding away with my scrubbing-brush, now 
in the lee-scuppers, now against the cable-raiige, now 
along the main-hatch-coamings, I say' I could not help 
reflecting on my insanity in choosing a calling that di- 
vorced me from all shore comforts, from all intellectual 
and social pleasures, which put me face to face with such 
coarse and rough labor, as, were it introduced jnto jails, 
would excite the pity of- philanthropists for felons, and 
produce a revolution in prison-discipline, and. which had 
brought this additional misfortune with it — hardly the 
fatality of any vocation you can name — that it left me 
totally unfitted for any other pursuit. 

So my little manikin, you who are rushing from 
Marryat’s, novels to your papa, to entreat him to let you be 
a sailor, take my advice — stick to Mother Earth! She is 
kind, sh4 is no lover of strangling, she suffers you to sleep 
at night, she offers you choice of a hundred occupations, 
of all kinds of company, of all sorts of civilized amuse- 
ments. But the Sea! here is a divinity that will drown 
you if she can — who will never cease trying to achieve her 
fell purpo«e whilst you remain her servant; who will 
introduce you to bad food, a bitter servitude, long weary 
terms of imprisonment, and leave you but a poor man in 
the end, if you have the luck to escape the sand mattress 
-sjie has prepared for you among the hungry fishes. 


CHAPTEE X. 

A SEA-PARLOK. 

The hands went to breakfast at seven bells— half- 
past seven. This meal consisted of fresh shore-bread,(for 
that morning) and tea, a queer-looking liquor, liberally 
thiokened with pale yellow stalks. Some of us who had a 
sweet tooth spread molasses over the bread and ate it thus; 


LITTLE LOO. 


45 


others ^ireferred pork-fat, which was perhaps a more 
presentable subsitute for butter. 

It was observable that the man had laid in no small 
-comforts, no inexpensive sweeteners to the hard bread and 
stiff junk that was to be their daily fare. Surely in the 
grub-locker one might have hoped to find soinetliing 
brought from the grocers’ and provision merchants’; but 
jou would have starved soon, had you been furnished 
with no other sustenance than what the men themselves 
had purchased. In truth they, would prefer to spend in 
.an evening’s debauch ijioney it would, take them twelve 
months to earn, rather than purchase a single convenience 
for a long voyage. 

Let us be happy for to-uight, 

What care we for to-morrow?’' 

is the liiotto of such men. 

Figure your humble servant seated in a bunk, with his 
head well against the upper deck, his legs over the side, a 
pannikin of tea standing on his mattress, a tin dish be- 
tween his knees, and a jack-knife in his hand. 

Here was now an interior rich with glimmering details; 
a wooden cavern resonant with human voices, and the 
ringing song of theffrothing bow-tvave. The bunks were 
built one above another, and ranged in a double line either 
side the forecastle; some of the men ate their breakfast as 
I did, in. their bunks; others used the chests lashed to the 
deck as tables. Some who had i^ade a short meal in 
order to get a long smoke blew clouds of tobacco vapor, 
which mingled with the steam from the tea, and created 
an atmosphere like a London fog. 

Omitting the. oaths, which, however, is like extracting 
the spice out of a French comedy, whereby the flavor that - 
makes the thing characteristic is ruined, I here present 
you with a fragment of our forecastle conversation. 

Mate, twist that ugly scrubbin’ brush o’ yourn out of 
the road. How’s a man to see if there hain’t v/orms in 
this winegar, with your mop in the sun’s eye?” 

This from surly old Liverpool Sam, who heads the 
starboard watch, and addressed to -a man who had got his 
head too far advanced into the daylight that came down 
the fore-scuttle. 

Billy,” shouts a man from a corner bunk, did ye 


46 


LITTLE LOO. 


see that bloomin’ gal’s break-down last night. Talk o’ 
hornpipes!” 

Well, talk o’ them, and wot then?” grumbles a man 
in the bunk beneath. 

Wot then? why, I say it warn’t dancing — it wur like 
makin’ sennit out of air .with her feet. * Something 
beautiful!” 

^‘It was the comic song about the kangaroo that took 
my fancy,” answers Billy, talking with his mouth full. 

Did YOU take notice of that cove jumpin’ as them hani- 
mals does with their tails? Larf! 1 nearly died of larfin’. 
Some of them persons sings uncommon well. But I 
haven’t got much respeck for them myself. I don’t 
reckon singing what you may call manly work. Wot do 
they do with theirselves all day? Lays abed, I suppose.” 

■•Jimmy, give us a draw,” cries Little Welchy.^ ,And 
Jimmy, removing a sooty pipe from his mouth, politely 
dries the stem of it upon his sleeve and hands it to his 
mate. 

I’hi blessed if this brig hasn’t got the right sort of 
sea-heels!” says a man. ^^D’ye hear how she hums, 
mates?” 

Billy!” exclaims the man in the corner bunk, took 
a notion in my head, watchin’ that gal dancin’ last nighty 
that if I wur to turn to and put on the right kind o’ shoes. 
I might get a decent livin’ by dancin’ at the theayter.” 

Ay, ay, you’d make a fine show in tights, you would,” 
growls old Liverpool Stm. You’re too much down by 
the stern, mate, to keep time to the fiddles. No trap- 
door’d hold up under your weight, and you’d be drivin’ 
through the scenery and destroyin’ the pictures at the 
back. To say nothen of your being allers in liquor.” 

Liverpool Sam being an old bear, and held in awe by 
the crew,* is not answered. 

The most wonderful bit o’ dancing as ever I see was 
by a chap named Young Alf, aboard a Scotch bark,” 
here puts in a sandy-haired man called Suds, which I be- 
lieve was his recil name. 

Young Alf! why, I knew him. A little fellow, with 
a large wart over agin his right eye, an’ he had lost his 
little finger, and was always swoppin’ his brigs for drink, 
and then gettin’ drunk and goin’ maudlin about, swear- 


LITTLE LOOi 47 

ing his brigs had been stole/’ here interrupts a hitherto 
silent man. 

‘^E'o, it ain’t the same. The man I mean warn’t 
little. His toes was so light that I’m blowed if he 
wouldn’t turn to and dance on a man’s breast without 
wakin’ of him up. Well, I’ll just tell ’ee what happened. 
We overhauled a whale one evening. It fell a dead calm, 
find then there was we and the whale alongside o’ each 
other. Well, I reckon the whale was sound asleep. Wot 
does Young Alf do but runs aloft with a spare line, makes 
it fast to the forejard arm, comes down agin, stands on 
the bulwark, and slings hisself clean on to the whale’s 
back. Then he sings out to the bo’sun’s mate to tune up 
with his fiddle. The bo’sun’s mate he plays a jig. There 
wur the whole ship’s company lookin’ on — skipper an’ 
mates and pagsengers aft burstin’ with laughter — and 
Young Alf goin’ at it toe and heel, and the whale sound 
asleep. Alf, he keeps hold o’ the rope’s end, so there 
warn’tTio danger of his getting drownded. Well, pres- 
ently one o’ the crew — a dammed Portngee, he gets a bit 
o’ holystone, and lets drive at the whale. Then look out! 
Ho then seen but froth and tail — tail as big as this 
bloomin’ fok’sle, mates; and there was Alf coolly climbin’ 
up the rope, where he reaches the yard-arm, and comes 
down and bows to the skipper and passengers. That’s 
what I call proper dancin’.” 

‘■^Vith a lump o’ green in the corner of it,” shouts 
Billy. ^^Wot’s the use o’ spinning them 3 ^arns hereP^ 
D’ye think we’re Califoornians?” 

There never wos a truer yarn,” cries Suds, and he 
takes oath upon oath that’s it’s no lie. 

He must ha’ been a con-nexion of the chap as took 
the parler-floor in the whale’s belly for three days,” says 
Little Welchy. 

Who was he?” asked Suds, eager to establish his 
veracity by any collateral clew. 

Moses, warn’t it? — blessed if 7 know!” answers 
Welchy. 

Young Alf was no Jew,” cries Suds. He was from 
Limerick.” 

Here one of the hands, who hasn’t learning enough to 
put them right, but has a notion that they are talking 
nonsense, sings out, — 


48 


LITTLE LOO. 


^^Hold your gab! or I'll haul you out of your bunk.’^ 
You’ll have to take your legs to the windlass and pipe* 
all hands to do that,” shouts Suds. 

What’s that you say?” cries the other, and up he 
jumps and grasps Suds by the feet. A struggle follows; 
Old Sam backs out of their way, cursing their tomfoolery. 
In a few moments Suds, together with his mattress, pan- 
nikin,, tobacco-box, and a pair of sea-boots, comes down 
with a thump upon deck. , 

There the two men pound away at each other, getting 
mixed up with the bedding, and provoking shouts of 
laughter from the others, who survey and enjoy the scrim- 
mage from the secure ambush of their bunks. 

Presently eight bells are struck, and the riot terminates 
by the crew going on deck. 

Such scenes are frequent enough, but rarely any thing 
comes of them, and they are forgotten as soon as over. 


CHAPTEE XI. 

A SURPETSE. 

OiT reaching the deck we found the brig bowling along, 
lying well down to the stiff breeze, heading a good south- 
west, with the English coast a pale blue haze on the hori- 
zon. It was my trick at the wheel, and I walked aft and 
relieved the man who had been there since six o’clock, 
and who happened to be the new hand whom I had fished 
out of the water on the preceding night. 

Old Windward was at breakfast with the skipper; and 
the carpenter, Mr. Banyard, as he was called, walked the 
weather-deck like a pendulum, his eyes always to wind- 
ward, his half-open hands swinging athwartships, and his 
whole aspect brimful of ludicrous importance. 

From my position I commanded a good view of the 
whole vessel, besides being able to glance from time to 
time right and left of me at the sea, whereon was a siglit 
or two worthy of admiration. 

The brig, though under a large pressure of canvas, 
steered easily and with a light helm, owing to her masts 
being stayed perpendicular to her keel, instead of that 
rake aft which all landsmen somehow or other associate 


LITTLE LOO, 


49 


with speed, and that rake forward which is the true sail- 
or’s abomination; the first of which by crowding sail aft 
obliges you to gi7e her a lee helm, which is always a 
heavy rudder; whilst the second merely improves the ves- 
sel’s tendency to pitch and fall off. 

From the wheel the brig looked a handsome object, with 
her graceful amidship swell fining down to a point at the 
bowsprit. The yards were well trimmed, and showed 
grand spaces of well-stretched squares of convex canvas 
along the slanting masts. The royals soared like clouds 
at the mastheads, and the sense of swift movement was 
wonderfully stimulated by the permanent foamy uproar at 
the bows, and the seething of the froth alongside, and the 
crackling and bubbling of the water in the long wake 
astern. 

The sea was a space of luminous leaping water, each 
wave with a flaky head to windward, while to leeward the 
waters poured away in rounded elevations smooth as oil. 
There was a full-rigged ship astern of us under all plain 
sail. Against a craft of her size and build we could 
scarcely expect the Little Loo to hold her own, the more 
especially as this ship was not nearly so deep as we in 
proportion to our relative tonnage, and she was making 
a fairer wind than we, that is, heading to leeward of us. 
She was of iron, painted green, and probably had emigrants 
on board, for her forecastle was crowded. I do not think 
the whole world could have shown a sight more pictur- 
esque, more delicate, more lovely in color and grace than 
this vessel; her sails were as white as the driven snow; her 
fore and aft canvas bellying out in beautiful rounded 
forms to the eased-off sheets; her little sky-sails topping 
the great tower and volume of sail, the whole moving 
stately and swift under the blue sky, across which the 
clouds, gilt-edged by the sun, with here and there a rain- 
bow in their skirts, were driving in groups. Abreast of 
us on our starboard beam was a steamer steady as an 
island, and almost as big as one; the huge form inexorably 
carving a line along the sparkling water, urged by that 
amazing, secret, controlled power which no man, even in 
this age familiarized to the miracle, can contemplate 
without admiration and wonder. 

Some half-hour after I had taken the wheels I was 
astonished by the uprisal of an apparition. 


50 


LITTLE LOO. 


Up through the companion, holding on to the brass 
rail with a white hand, came a lady — a (iark-comj?Jexioned 
woman with a rich color on her cheeks, with fi/ie pensive 
brown eyes and cherry mouth — no less a person indeed 
than Miss Louisa Franklin — the skipper’s sister — my 
.beauty of Trdnsom’s hotd. Her black silk rattled har- 
moniously in the wind, as she stood looking at the gay 
ship now well up on our lee-quarter, and the feather in 
her pretty hat streamed softly. 

That she was accompanying her brother to Australia 
and liad come round in the brig from London had never 
crossed my mind when I saw her at Bay port. Peril aps I 
li^id not given her a second thought since I came on board. 
jSTow, I was as pleased to see her as if she had been an 
old friend. I felt somehow that the mere knowledge of 
her presence in the brig would make my rough forward 
life mgi’e endurable. Just as a band of music lightens the 
most wearisome labor, and makes the dullest mechanical 
routine gay. 

She must have found lier sea-legs, as we say at sea, off 
the Forelands, for she left the companion and took a turn 
along the deck with as easy a step as any sailor’s, recur- 
ring ag4iin and again with her fine eyes full of admiration 
to the ship to leeward, that had slackened her weather- 
braces, and was making the same course as ourselves, 
though sailing faster. 

Pendulum Banyard, as I nicknamed the carpenter, 
squinted at her out of the corner of his eyes, and dodged 
her with many an awkward lurch as her movements about 
the deck brought her near him. She went from side to 
side, 'was here and there incessantly. I likened her to a 
butterfly blown out to sea, and haunting a ship’s decks. 

At last she came aft and peeped at the compass; up to 
this moment she had not looked at me; now, as slie lifted 
her eyes to my face when she was about to move away, I 
observed a puzzled look come into them; then she smiled, 
and her face lighted up with the richness of her merry 
expression; she walked to the skylight, and then glanced 
at me again and again, perhaps trying to remember where 
we had met, being incapable of identifying me in my 
present forecastle rig with the young fellow who had 
watched her with unequivocal admiration in the coffee- 
room of the White Hart. 


ilTTLE LOO. 


51 


Presently Captain Franklin and Old Windward came on 
deck. . The skipper joined his sister^ who must have asked 
him at once about me; for he turned, looked to see who I 
was, and then said something to her which, whatever he 
may have intended, made her glance at me again. 

Old Windward now gave the crew a specimen of his 
manners as mate. Finding the men idling (as well they 
might, for Banyard had put them to no jobs), he went 
among them and lashed up a shindy forthwith, just as a 
shark newly-hooked froths the water with its tail. His 
voice was a lion-roar (though nothing at all majestic was 
suggested by it), and with the fierce cast in liis eye, and a 
trick of whacking his leg so as to produce a smart report, 
he cut a very formidable figure. The anchors were to be left 
fished as they were until we were clear of the channel, but 
there were a hundred jobs for the hands to turn to upon, 
from greasing^he royal-mast- heads down to serving the 
Inwer rigging with chafing-gear. . 

Old Windward, at all events, soon got the^men busy, 
and throughout that day all hands were kept at work, 
though after we had cleared the channel it was watch- 
and-watch, that is, one division of the crew on deck 
whilst the other division was below; all hands being kept 
at work during the afternoon. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE FUEHCH SCHOOi^ER. 

We carried the spanking breeze into the second dog- 
watch; it then fell light, and shifted ahead, with every 
promise of a caj^m. We braced the, yards to the masts, 
and di;ew faintly through the water with our head at 
south; but so far we had little to complain of, for I should 
say we had not run a less distance than one hundred sea- 
miles in the thirteen hours. 

On this, our first evening at sea, we met with an advent- 
ure, a sample of the thousand incidents which enliven the 
prosaic story of La Vie Maritime. 

It was one of those mild, delicious evenings which visit 
the English latitudes only — a radiant atmosphere, sweet 


52 


LITTLE LOO. 


as the spring’s^ and a sky all midsummer in its deep and 
tender blue. 

At sundown all the greasing, reeving, worming, parcel- 
ing, scrj^ibbing, and polishing had ended — a long day’s 
work well over. The port watch were on deck, some of 
the others below, and some on the forecastle sprawling 
about with their pipes in their mouths. Miss Franklin 
was seated aft near the binnacle; the skipper alongside of 
her, smoking a cigar. Old Windward walked the lee side 
of the deck impatiently, glancing aloft and around in 
search of wind, and an excuse to shout out orders; while 
Banyard furtively blew a cloud with his back against the 
mast, sheltered from the observation of those on the after- 
deck. 

This was one of those sweet intervals at sea when the 
heavens are pure and the water calm, when the aroma of 
tobacco is rich to the palate, when the roughest veice 
catches a melody from the soft flapping of the canvas on 
high and from the liquid murmur of the sea about the 
bows and under the counter of the vessel. With my legs 
striding the forecastle rail, I watched the stars dropping 
like flakes of silver into their appointed places; from them 
my eyes traveled to that more earthly and accessible star 
- — to wit, Louisa Franklin. We were both to the windward, 
and r had a clear view of her; I think she was Avatching 
the stars too; her pose Avas full of thought, and though in 
that evening light she Avas too far off for me to distinguish 
her features, yet so deep Avas my admiration for her that 
memory served me as eifectually as the real presentment 
Avould Inwe done, and perhaps did her more justice by 
furnishing an ideal coloring, and making her even sweeter 
than my imperfect physical eye Avould find her. 

Old Liverpool Sam, Avho was leaning Avith his two stub- 
born arms over the head-rail, looking ahead Avith his groAvL 
i 11 g face, in the midst of Avhicli Avas stuck an inch of jetty 
pipe, suddenly grumbled, — 

What’s that out there? A ship, ain’t it?” 

I turned to haA^e a look; my sight Avas strong, and I 
made out, about four miles dislant, a small brig or topsail 
schooner — Avhich, 1 could not tell. 

At eight bells the watch beloAV A\^ent into the forecastle. 
There Avas a light air aloft, just enough to keep the royals 
full, and the brig made imperceptible Avay through the 


LITTLE L00» 53 

water. At this rate of traveling we could hold onr present 
€ourse all night, unless the ivind shifted. 

The moon came out of the sea red as a furnace, but 
sailing upward into the refined heights, changed her 
copper into silver, and paled the hemisphere of sky with 
her delicate light. Glancing into the silvery distance for- 
ward I perceived that we were bringing the schooner close 
down uiDon us. 

sail right ahead!” I sung out. 

I see her!” responded the skipper, apd the helm was 
starboarded, which brought the schooner large on the 
starboard bow. The skipper and Old Windward now 
came forward, one with a telescope, the other with anight 
glass. 

Her nose is cocked in the wind’s eye, and she don’t 
look to be manned,” said the mate. 

Let her come to again!” sung out the captain to the 
man at the wheel. So — steady! keep her at that.” He 

had evidently a mind to see what was the matter with the 
schooner. 

We swam to within easy hail of her, and then, as if the 
wind had exhausted itself in a final spurt to accommodate 
Captain Franklin, it died right out; the sea turned oil 
smooth, and the huge cone of sliver light buried in it by 
the moon shone without a blur. 

^^Ship ahoy!” roared Old Windward in a voice that you 
would have thought could be heard half-way to Penzance. 
All was still. Never was such an unearthly stillness at 
sea. The very sails of the brig seemed to cerise their faint 
flapping to catch the reply; the only sound was the tink- 
ling of the water gurgling at the cutwater. 

Once again the mate sounded his lion-roar; and then, 
‘*ril be boiled,” says he, if there’s anybody aboard of 
her.” 

Lower away the port-quarter boat and overhaul her, 
Mr. Sloe,” exclaimed the skipper, first casting his eye all 
around the horizon to observe if there were any signs of 
a breeze. Not a breath. The* stars around the water-line 
were big and round, and blue as diamond light. 

Aft, some hands,” calls out the mate; and a batch of 
us make the decks ring with our boots as we hurry to the 
quarter-boat, every man eager to form one of the boarding- 
party, It was my fortune to get an oar. Three of us 


54 


LITTLE LOO. 


possessed the thwarts; Old Wkidward squatted in the stern* 
sheets^ shipping the rudder as we were lowered; down we 
plumped on the water and shoved off. 

The brig had fallen becalmed not a quarl^er of a.mile 
from the schooner. 

A sight too close/^ growled old Windward, ‘‘ii this 
calm holds. And so our pull 'was a short one. 

The schooner was a low, black-painted craft, about 
one hundred tons burden; we could read the words 

Marie , Brest,” painted in large white letters o.n her 

stern, quite distinctly in the broad moonlight; all her can- 
vas was set, but without trim; throat and peak halyards 
slack, topsailyard braced to port, and topgallant yard to 
starboard, jib all in bights from the hanks — as slovenly as 
a woman in ill-fitting clothes half-laced, and the' skirt 
dragging. 

The light was so strong that one might have read a news- 
paper by it; the schooner’s deck was distinctly discernible, 
and no living creature was to bo seen on it. 

Easy,” cried the mate, as we came alongside, and the 
bow oar hooked on. 

••'Hark to that!” said LittleAVelchy. 

Vfhat was it? Nothing more nor less than the sounds 
of a man’s and a woman’s voice raised apparently in hot 
warfare. 

W e listened for some moments, and the mate burst into 
a hoarse laugh. 

What in the devil’s name is that lingo?” he shouted. 

French, sir,” I answered, having caught some words. 

Up with us!” he bawled, and let’s see the fun.” 

Little Welchy stopped behind to mind the boat, and the 
three of us scrambled on to the deck. 

There was a skylight just abaft the mainmast, and this 
standing open right over the cabin enabled us to see what 
was going forward below. A hand-lamp burned upon the 
table; on one side stood a little famished-looking yellow 
man, whose whole vitality appeared to have been spent in 
the production of an enormous mustache. A red night- 
cap adorned his head, earrings about three times as thick 
as ordinary wedding-rings twinkled in his ears; his chest 
lay exposed under a shirt open from the throat to the 
waist, and this, with a pair of trousers and a red sash 
around his waist, completed his attire. Facing him was 


LITTLE LOO. 


55 


a sfoufc dark woman, whose immense fan-faced cap had 
gradually been worked by the convulsive movements of her 
head over her forehead. She was dressed^ — well, I will be 
discreet; enough if I say that a flannel petticoat and a 
chocolate-colored shawl formed her exterior covering. 

The noise they n^ade, now that our ears were down to 
it, was astonishing. Their language was a torrent of 
words, quick, fierce, running one into another with a 
tremendous rattling of r’s, and larded with patois; and as 
they both hammered away together, not the faintest no- 
tion could I get of their meaning. 

No wonder they had not heard us come on board. 
Nothing less than a thunderbolt could have made its 
noise distinguishable above theirs. It was not possible to 
watch their gesticulations without laughter, and the first 
to explode was Old Windward, whose roar we immediately 
echoed. 

The man started back and looked up;, the woman 
shrieked and stood stock-still, her waving arms arrested. 

Whales all this noise about?'' bawled the mate. 

What schooii^r is this, and where’s the crew? and why 
the blazes didn’t ye answer when we hailed?” 

They are English!” cried the man in French to the 
woman. Then catching hold of his hair, he exclaimed, 

Who ere you? Vere you comb?” 

Why, we thought this craft was abandoned, and we 
boarded her to see what was wrong, and here we find you 
and your friend kicking up row enough to prevent any 
crew within forty-mile hail from getting to sleep,” shouted 
Old Windward. 

At this point the woman took a look down her figure, 
and uttering a yell, she smothered herself up in her arms 
and fled. 

^^Vait! I veel comb to ze deck,” says this poor little 
Parlez-vous; and setting bis cap on his head, and hitching 
up his sash, he went to the companion-ladder, and em- 
erged presently, cutting the quaintest figure in life in the 
moonlight. As he advanced, he made us a profound bow, 
and looking round him spied the brig, on which he ex- 
claimed, Ah, zat is your sheep?” 

Yes, that’s it,” answered the mate; where’s your 
crew? are they all turned in?” 


56 


LITTLE LOO. 


‘‘1 do not comprehend/^ says the little fellow, shaking 
his nightcap. 

^ ^^Are they all gone to bed? your men, I say; arc 
they here ?’’ roars the mate, pointing to the fore- 
castle. 

^^Ah, ze men! Non, Zey ere not here. Zey ere 
gone.’^ 

Gone!’’ 

Mats oui, in two boat,” and he held up two fingers 
and pointed to the davits where the overhauled boatfalls 
hung to the water’s edge. 

What made ’em go?” asked Old Windward. 

We did bomp, vonce, twice, tree time, and zey cry, 

^ Ve zink! ve zink!’ and left me and my vife. Metis mon 
Dieu! Vat did it mattaire? I say, you go — by gar, 
you no comb back, allons Here he shrugged his shoul- 
ders to such an extent that his head was buried between 
them and his nightcap stood up like an inverted flower- 
pot. 

‘^What’s your name?” asked the mate. 

Alphonse Dupres, sare; I am ze capitaine.” 

Where do you come from?” 

^‘^Douvres.” 

‘SDoove!” shouted Old Windward. Where’s that? in 
Afriky?” 

He means Dover,” said L 

And where are you bound to?” 

Brest.” 

^^And do you mean to say you are going to work this 
schooner to Brest by yourself?” 

Mais onL Vy not? dere is my vife — strong as two man 
— and dis is summer-time.” 

Well, hang me if ever I heard of such a thing before!” 
cried the mate, staring at the little figure, amazed. ‘^But 
you’ll be cutting each other’s throat afore you get to Brest, 
won’t you?” 

The Frenchman drew himself up and waved his hand 
with a dignified gesture. ' 

Ve dispute a leetel — all ze ladies dispute: messieurs, 
vill you drink som vine?” 

^^Ho, thank 3^e, sir,” said Old AVindward, stepping to- 
ward the vessel’s sid-e. If we can lend 3^011 a hand in 
any way we shall be glad.” 


LITTLE LOO. 


57 


Monsieur thanked him profusely, assured him that he 
and his wife were quite capable of navigating and working 
the vessel to Brest, and held his red cap in his hand, bow- 
ing, with his hand upon his naked breast, to each of us 
separately as we scrambled over the side and dropped into 
the boat. 

Half an hour later a breeze sprang up from the North; the 
brig’s yards were trimmed, and we stood once more on our 
course. We lost sight of the little schooner in the haze of 
moonlight in a short time^ though when the breeze came, I 
heard the skipper, who was looking at her through a night- 
glass, tell the mate that the Frenchman and his wife had 
got the square yards trimmed and were heading a proper 
course for Brest. 

This adventure furnished many a joke to our forecastle, 
and it was a long time before the men who had manned 
the boat ceased to talk of the rnounseer and his wife found 
quarreling in the cabin, and the coolness with which he 
talked of carrying his vessel to her destination. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

OLD W I ]sr D W A R D. 

After we had been to sea a week, we began to find out 
what sort of men our skipper and mate were. Old Wind- 
ward I had never any doubts about; his cocked eye full of 
malevolence, his grim face, the skin of which was as coarse 
as the grain of mahogany, the whole looking as if it had 
jbeen put to pickle in brimstone and saltpetre, and his 
loud oaths, when Miss Franklin was out of hearing, were 
unmistakable testimonials of his character as one of that 
class of sea-dogs for whose origination we have to thank the 
Nova Scotians. But it took me a week to make up m}^ 
mind about the skipper. It was no good sign that he 
allowed the mate to swear at andl^ully us without putting 
in a word to soften his strong mouth; still, this was but a 
negative vice. But one day he hoisted his colors, and a 
regular black it was. 

This was the occasion for it. 

The watch on deck were washing down. This duty 
was performed by one man pumping, another handing 


58 


LITTLE - LOO. 


the buckets along to a third, who sluices the decks, whilst 
the rest scrub with their brushes. The man who sluiced 
the decks was Little Welchy; and it was his business to 
souse every nook and corner effectually. 

The hen-coops under the long-boat were caulked with 
battens to prevent the dirt from rolling on to the deck; 
these battens, when the decks were washed, were removed 
to allow the water to be thrown under the coops, and then 
replaced. 

Old Windward stumping about the deck, irritating us 
with ceaseless exordiums to bear a hand,’^ not to stand 
grubbing at the muck like a crew of pigs, but to swish it 
smartly into the scupjiers,’’ and so forth, came to the hen- 
coops, and sung out, Here’s a batten wanting. Ship it, 
and do your work properly. What’s the meaning of this 
skulking, blubberhead?” 

The skipper, who was on deck in galoshes, came forward 
to the main rigging and stood looking on. 

Little Welchy was responsible for the batten, and cast 
his eye round to seek it. 

‘‘D’ye hear v/hat I say?” roars the mate. 

“Hear yer? yes,” grumbles Little Welchy, “and I’ll 
ship it fast enough when I finds it.” 

Find it!” shouts Old Windward. “ By thunder, Mr. 
Dough-face ” (in genteel allusion to the paleness of 
Welchy’s skin), “ if you have lost it, look out!” 

All this bawling, however, could not restore the missing 
batten. We dropped our scrubbing-brushes to hunt for 
it, but it could not be found. 

“I expect it’s gone overboard,” says Little Welchy. 

On which Old Windward made a spring at him, shout- 
ing, “ Wherever it is, you shall look for it. If it’s over- 
board, you shall go arter it!” 

# Welchy, not knowing to what extent Old Windward ^ 
was ill earnest, threw himself into a sparring attitude 
when he saw the other jump, and shouted out, “ Hands 
off! don’t touch me! it’s no fault o’ mine. Nary man 
shall slosfi rae!”^ 

“ We’ll see about that, you smock- faced barn-burner!” 
cries the mate; and in The twinkling of an eye he had 
flung down a coil of rigging, seized the end, and was ^hit- 
ting at Little Welchy. 


LITTLE LOO. 59 

The sailor, as liis nickname might suggest, was no 
coward. 

The blood of Taffy became as fire. With a scream he 
ran at the mate, and closed with him. i^ow tlie little 
fellow would have stood no more chance with Old Wind- 
ward, hand-to-hand, than a goat in the embrace of a boa- 
constrictor. The skipper might therefore have safely left 
his officer alone to accomplish the job he had. set himself. 
Instead, he ran upon the sailor, seized him by the scruff 
of his neck, slewed him round and pinned his arms to his 
side, thereby exposing his back to the castigation of Old 
Windward, who neither spared his own arm nor the man’s 
breech. 

Whack! whack! it was like beating a carpet, and at 
every blow the mate sputtered out, ^^Tll teach ye to show, 
fight, my bantam! I’ll learn ye to lose the ship’s furni- 
ture, my weather-cock!” 

At last Little Welchy, by a vigorous twist of his body, 
writhed out of the captain’s hands, and fell away some’ 
steps, boiling with rage over the indignity and pain of 
this coiu-hidmg. The skipper then walked aft, first sc-owl- 
ing at us severally, and the mate flinging down the rope’s- 
end ordered us to go on with our scrubbing. 

It was typical of sailors’ reckless, unheeding character 
that Welchy got no sympathy from the crew. On the 
contrary, most of them thought this flogging fair material 
for chaff,” and merciless by their fre{Juency were the 
allusions to it. 

Don’t sit down, Welchy, you ain’t healed yet!’^ 

Didn’t it hurt, Welchy? I guess you thought you was 
in the union agin, and that the old Beadle was layin’ it on 
for the good o’ 5^0111' morals!” ^Mlere, Welchy, give us 
twopence, and you shall have my ’lowance of bread to 
soak for a poultice.” Banter of this kind was incessant. 
Welchy bore it all very well: only once did he fire up and 
let us know that the rope’s-end had penetrated deeper 
than his skin, when Liverpool Sam said that he onght*to 
have shown more fight when the skipper laid hold of him. 

It happened that when the watch I was in came on d^ck 
again at twelve o’clock it was my turn to take the wheel. 
This was the job I best liked. It not only ke[)t me clear 
of Old Windward, but away from the disagreeable and 


60 


LITTLE LOO. 


often the dirty work to which the hands were put in the 
intervals of trimming yards. 

The brig was under fore and main- topmast studding 
sails, the sea smooth and the weather very fine. Indeed 
ever since we had left Bayport we had enjoyed a succes- 
sion of fine days, and the royals had only been ofi the 
vessel once. 

As I stood at the wheel I daresay I looked a very proper 
Jack Swab in my duck trousers, striped shirt, shoes, and 
cap w^ell astern of my head. Indeed, the prospect of 
being under the immediate observation of Miss Franklin 
made me always pretty careful in my trim when it fell to 
my turn to steer the brig. 

Must I tell you, madam, whether I was dark or fair? 
Perhaps it may improve your interest in this forecastle 
story if I briefly hint 4hat I w^as fair in the sense of having 
hair colored to the complexion that flatterers would call 
auburn, but that my face had been cooked to the color of 
the breast of roast turkey by the tropical suns I had lately 
come from under and my more recent exposure to weather. 
I Imd gray eyes. You may not like that color; but pleas- 
ing or not, my eyes were very good to see out of, as keen 
as binocular glasses over some men’s noses. As for the 
rest, if a sailor has only a decent figure, he cannot w^ell 
help being tolerably graceful; the perpetual tumbling of 
his ship is an enduring dancing lesson, and teaches him a 
livelier step and un easier mien than any fiddling instruct- 
or of fandangos could impart in a lifetime, let him scrape 
and slide wdth all the art in the world. 

Miss Franklin was on deck when I relieved the wheel; 
on the skylight, her favorite lounge, a rug over her feet 
and a book in her hand, which she was not reading. 

She looked hard at me as I passed— I may tell you (and 
may justify my egoism by-and-by) that on other occasions 
I had caught her glancing at me when the work brought 
me near her, but I knew my place and kept my eyes well 
to the front as I walked b}**. If I thought her face pretty 
and was in love with her beauty, that w^as my business and 
secret. I was not going to put it in her potver to com- 
plain to her brother that one of his crew stared rudely at 
her— the person they had met , at Bayport — and that he 
was impudent enough to think himself on a level wdth the 
people who lived aft, for all that he went with his arms 


LITTLE LOO. 61 

bare^ and scrubbed the decks with his trousers rolled over 
his knees. 

In a moment Old Windward came on deck, and sent 
Mr. Banyard forward. Poor Pendulum Banyard! I was 
always sorry for him. He was neither officer nor forward 
man: consequently he was despised at both ends of the 
brig, and subjected to many mortifications. I shall have 
to tell more about him later on. 

It was droll to see Old Windward’s uncouth efforts after 
a polite and easy exterior when in the presence of Miss 
Franklin. 

There was no doubt that he heartily hated the sight of 
her on deck, as she was not only a restraint upon his un- 
ceremonious adjurations to the men, but very often put 
him to the agony of a conversation, with her. Seeing her 
on the skylight he made her a Oalibanesque bow, then 
cocked his eye aloft to see hov/ the sails were drawing. 
But we were heading our true course, and all tlie canvas 
was round and hard: not a brace required touching, nor 
was there an idler to be bullied. 

The watch had dropped into their employments speedily: 
some at the spun^yarn winch, others sail-mending, others 
again at that eternal job on board ship, overhauling the 
chafing-gear. 

What is my brother doing, Mr. Sloe?” Miss Franklin 
asked. 

^^Tliink he is laying down, ma’am,” answered the mate 
in a voice that might sound shipshape enough in a gale of 
wind, but resembled the groaning of a hinge when heard 
with' the girl’s. She looked at her book, and Old Wind- 
ward w^as slinking off, when she exclaimed, — 

When are we going to have a storm, Mr. Sloe?” 

‘^There’s no telling.” 

‘^1 want to see the waves running mountains high. Ho 
waves ever really run mountains high?” 

^^Well, I’ve read of ‘'such things in books, but never 
seen ’em with the naked eye,” he replied with ill-concealed 
impatience of such questions. ^ 

He was about to sneak away again, but she brought him 
up with, — 

‘^Oh, Mr. Sloe, I have often wanted to ask you if you 
are married?” 

And there was a twinkle in the witch’s brown eyes that 


LITTLE LOO, 


- 62 

made me suspect she found something- to divert her in 
asking Old Windward questions. 

He looked at me. The expression which the fierce cast 
in his eye gave to his face^ coupled with the train of ideas 
suggested to me by Ms asociation with any sentiment in 
the smallest degree resembling love, made me laugh. I 
nearly choked myself in iny effort to swallow the explo- 
sion, but the guffaw had gone forth, and Miss Franklin 
turned to look at me, and seeing my red face, laughed 
merrily herself. 

She would hardly suspect that her innocent fun might 
make Old. Windward my deadly enemy, and expose me to 
every ill that can befall a sailor under a tyrannous officer. 

What are you sniggering at, you there?’’ he shouted 
to me. ^^You had better mind what you’re about. 
How’s her head?” 

I reported. He scowled, and was about to move away, 
when the inexorable Loursa challenged him once more. 

^^Mr. Sloe, you haven’t answered my question.” 

What do you want me to tell you, ma’am?” he growled, 
scarcely able to answer her civilly, and no doubt heartily 
wishing she was a man, that he might give her the benefit 
of his mind. 

I asked if you were married?” she said with a charm- 
'ing smile. ^ I like to think of the pleasure a sailor feels 
Nvhen nearmg home, at the prospect of meeting his wife, 
and hugging his little ones, after a long voyage.” 

Old Windward stared and answered slowly, — 

Tm married, for one: but there’s no particular pleas- 
ure as ever I heard of in reaching home, unless it is for 
the sake o’ laying in bed all night, and nothing to fear 
' from a falling barometer.” 

Aren’t you always delighted to get back to your 
wife?” she cried with well-feigned surprise, but with 
enough Mibtle diailerie in her face to make me think that 
she knew more about Old Windw^’d than he suspected — 
her brother had been shipmate with the man elsewhere. 

Old Windward stared h»i’d at her again, and I risked 
another choking lie to stifle my mirth. He moved his 
jaws as though he were burying a secret quid of tobacco 
with hiz tongue, and then broke into a vague rumbling 
laugh, and said, — 

I don’t know that my missis is always glad to see me 


LITTLE LOO. 


63 


home. Maybe she don’t jump for joy when she gets my 
letter saying I’m a-corning. Some wives there is as go 
and see their husbands off. Some meets ’em. Mine sees 
me off. I’ve been married on and off twenty years^ 
ma’am. How many boots have I wore out in that time? 
If marriage wears better than boot leather, it’s a good 
job.” 

With which vague illustration he marched forv/ard, and 
fell foul of. an apprentice for talking with one of the men. 
Miss Franklin watched him walk away with a smile, and 
then came to the binnacle, at which she looked for some 
moments in silence. 

^^How,” thought I, ^^it’s my turn.” 

^Ms it difficult to steer?” she inquired. 

Not very,” I answered, with my heart beating a 
trifle quicker at being addressed by her. 
should like to^learn,” said she. 

^^I should be glad to teach you, if the captain would 
give me leave.” 

She turned to look at me, jnd I was struck by the way 
she did it; by the stare that was certainly cool, and yet 
Avith nothing of insblence or contempt or boldness in it — 
just a clear, determined bit of scrutiny. Her -beautiful 
eyes brought the color into my cheeks — have I not said 
that Jack is a bashful man? — and I have no doubt that I' 
looked an ass in my desire to seem easy and unconscious 
of her observation. 

I wonder a person like you,” says she, can belong to 
the forecastle.” (She pronounced the Avord in two-distinct 
syllables.) ^‘Mr. Sloe is bad enough, but if he, as an 
officer, is vulgar, ^ollat must be his inferiors, as common 
sailors are?” 

Old Windward happened to look aft at this moment. 
He frowned furiously to see us talking, but could say 
nothing. Tlie captain’s sister might converse Avitb any- 
body she pleased, and it Avas no fault of mine that she ad- 
dressed me. 

Are common sailors his inferiors?” I answered. 

She smiled, and said, — 

A man Avas flogged by him this morning, I hear.” 

Hope’s ended/^ said I with a glance at the sails. 

So my brother told me. How can men submit to be 
flogged ?” 


64 


LITTLE LOO. 


We common sailors/’ I replied, are the eels who are 
used to being skinned.” 

I wouldn’t be a sailor: no, not to be Qiieen of Eng- 
land after five years of it. To think of the beautiful sum- 
mer country, the hay-fields and flowers, and oieiv millc, I 
am leaving for — for, the chance of being drowned.” 

I did not like to ask her why she left them. 

What shall I do when I get to Sydney?” Here she 
sighed. Are they all convicts tliere?” 

I believe not,” I answered gravely. 

Thank goodness I am to co'me home again. I should 
never have sailed in a boat like this if my brother hadn’t 
said it would do me good. Oh, here he comes. Well, 
Pepperbox, I hope your sleep has refreshed you.” 

He evidently didn’t relish this form of address before 
me; but he had tact enough to smile, and then said in a 
soft voice, — 

You should not talk to the man at the wheel.” 

But it is stupid. There is no one to talk to except — ” 
and she made a grimace in the direction of Old Wind- 
ward. ^ 

He took her arm, and led her away; I think he scolded 
her, but not very harshly. It was clear that whatever 
stufl his heai^t was made of, it was soft for his sister. 

And as for her — what did I think? Did she talk to 
others of the crew as she talked to me? I have said that 
I thought her pretty — more than pretty; and such eyes, 
such silky hair, such a mouth, and a figure round and 
lovely to behold, could hardly fail to make me think her 
enchanting, let her talk as she would. She went below 
shortly after she received her scolding, and I had an hour 
of free undisturbed thinking to bestow on her. 

The conclusion I arrived at was, that she was a fresh 
country girl, quite unsophisticated, probably an orphan, 
with a watch-dog of a brother, who had taken it into his 
head that he was no longer justified in leaving her alone 
and unprotected ashore. Perhaps he was right, assuming 
my theory to be correct; but did he mean to carry her 
with him on his voyages until he himself quitted the sea? 


LITTLE LOO. 


65 


CHAPTER XIV, 

DEACOK, A. B. 

IJp to this point I have omitted to notice with attention 
a man who nevertheless plays a conspicuous part in this 
narrative. 

When I had signed articles, the captain had spoken to 
me with derision of a new hand who had shipped at Bay- 
port: ^^Who/’ said he,^ only wants spectacles and a 
choker to fit him for a chaplain.’’ 

This was the man who had fallen drunk into the water. 
His name {apropos to the skipper’s sneer) was Deacon: 
but the crew, thinking the appellation too polite and 
high-sounding, changed it to Sniggers — a forecastle skit 
upon the man’s trick of making faces to himself when in 
reverie. But I will write of him in his proper name. 

He was, in truth, a remarkable person: a very good 
sailor, active and venturesome aloft; certainly in all 
respects the smartest hand among us all, and yet looking 
the least like a mariner of any sailor that ever I met. His 
complexion was an unhealthy white; his forehead open 
and large; his hair black and parted down the middle, 
which was always a phenomenal object to me, for, never 
seeing him use a comb, I was as much puzzled to knov.^ 
how the parting got there as King George was to know 
how the apple got into the dumpling. 

Rigged in black, with a white cloth round his neck and 
his nose reddened. Deacon would have furnished perfectly 
a caricature model of a class of men who preach in the 
open air and groan to small congregations in Bethels. . 

• Yet, despite his sanctified face, he was on occasions as 
•|f)ofane as a beach-comber, and for one week after leaving 
53ayport he was repeatedly in liquor, though not so intox- 
icated as not to be able to do his work on deck, None of 
as could guess where he got his drink. Some of us 
imagined that he knew of a'secret road through the cargo 
to the rum-casks aft, and Snoring Jimmy watched his 
movements eagerly, but without avail. Beauty Blunt 
suggested that he w^as built after the lines of a camel, 
furnished with a bag to carry grog inside him, as camels 


LITTLE LOO. 


j6 

carried wat^r, with which he regaled himself wheuevei* 
athirst. 

However, one night, when the forecastle was ringing 
with snores, I saw him creep to his chest, pullouta bottle 
^•ind drink. Next day I related what I had seen; his chest 
was forced open, seven bottles (four empty and three full 
of rum) were found snugly stowed away under his clothes, 
and his health was drunk with applause, not a drain being 
left, ^^in order,” as Liverpool Sam said to him, that he 
mightn’t any longer be tempted to hinjure his health on 
tlie sly.” 

Deacon took this spoliation of his secret comfort in very 
good part; he said that he was glad that Jack Chadburn 
iiad made the discovery; I had saved his life from drown- 
ing and was welcome to all he had. 

Then why didn’t ye whack the lush with him?” cried 
Beauty Blunt. 

Because I wasn’t going to make enemies of all hands 
by choosing a chum,” answered Deacon promptly, b* Be- 
sides, Jack Chadburn doesn’t care enough about rum ta 
make my giving it to him a favor.” 

^^True for you. Sniggers,” said I. 

Ain’t this petty larceny?” says Little Welchy, looking 
into the red liquor at the bottom of his pannikin. 

Of course it is,” answered Deacon. I could bring 
you up before a. magistrate, and get you served, everyone 
of you, with a fortnight’s gruel, free, for this joke.” 

Oh, lord! here’s a sea-lawyer!” shouts Lucky Billy.- 

Wot’s a hinterirn junction. Sniggers?” 

know something about the law,” answered Deacon, 
smoothing his hair and speaking gravely. I once made 
,^four hundred pounds by the law, mates.” 

•I looked at him as he said this, for I found that he 
was addressing me. 

^^Did you?” said I, wondering that I had never beLye 
taken particular notice of his curious face. ' \ 

Yes,” he replied; and if you’ll hold your jaw, Billy? 
I’ll tell you how I did it.” 

Fire away,” cries Billy, Kghting his pipe. 

^MYell 'then,” he began, was able seaman aboard 
the Eastern Monarch, an Indiaman full of valuable caigo 
and passengers. There was a trick of mine -wliich I had 
learnt, I ca'n’t tell you where, of jobbing with my knife— 


LITTLE LOO. 


6 ' 


not so much whittling as the Yankees call it, but carving 
my name and all sorts of figures on woodwork whenever I 
came across it. See here! I*ve begun already.” 

He pointed to the head of his bunk whereon was the 
name Jas. Deacon ” neatly carved in the wood. 

Well,” he continued, fixing his piercing eyes on old 
Liverpool Sam, who shifted uneasily under the steady 
gaze, and looked.for relief at Scum (for the cook had been 
called down to participate in the plundered rum), ^‘one 
afternoon I was at the wheel — we were in the doldrums — 
the ship becalmed, no steering was wanted, anck nobody 
looking, and not thinking of what I was about, I out with 
my knife and began to nick the wheel. When the skipper 
saw the condition of the wheel he swore I should pay for 
a new one; and true enough ten pounds of good money 
out of my wages was stopped. But instead of shippings a 
new wheel at Calcutta he stuck to the old one, and the 
ship was steered home by that. When I got home I went 
to a lawyer, and after telling him the story I said, — 
y Can’t I bring an action against the owners for using 
my wheel — the wheel I’ve'paid for?’ 

^ Of course you can,’ says he. 

^ You see,’ I said, ‘ that if they hadn’t had that wheel 
they couldn’t have steered the ship — no one would have j)ut 
cargo on board, and no passengers would have sailed in her.’ 

Quite right,’ says the lawyer. ^ Leave the case 
to me.’ 

Well, the lawyer brings an action for one thousand 
pounds against the owners, and the judge, after turning 
it about and saying that he sees the ship would have been 
lost without a wheel, and that it was my wheel as saved 
her, he leaves it to- the jury, and they gave me a verdict 
for the.sum I told you.” 

I give this anecdote as a specimen of Deacon’s language. 
He was not a vulgar man in the sense that the others 
were; a knowledge of life, or rather of shore-habits and 
the ways of cities, such as is seldom met with among 
common sailors, to whom the world is a forecastle as it is 
a stage to the philosopher, was frequently apparent and 
even strongly so in his conversation. He had been to sea 
in all sizes and kinds of vessels, starting as a smack 
apprentice, the very bottom of the nautical ladder. Nor 
had he served only under English colors; he knew what 


68 


LITTLE LOO. 


life was on board a French man-of-war, and often made 
us laugh with his dry descriptions of French sailors, their 
prayers to the Virgin in storms, their Taliance in calms^ 
their mustachios, their hissings, their tears, their soup, 
and their vin ordinaire. ' 

When niy attention was once called to him, it became 
fixed. I mean that he excited much interest in me, and 
whenever he had anything to say, I caught myself listen- 
ing and watching him. With the others he made himself 
felt more slowly. Xor was the effect he produced 
. upon them comparable to the effect he produced 
upon me. I was struck by him as a puzzle: something^ 
magnetic in the expression of his eyes and face kept me 
often quietly watching him and speculating. 

Sometimes he talked so well, that I thought the gram- 
matical blunders he made, and the slang and cant sea- 
phrases he^mixed up in his speech, were an assumed vice, 
adopted for some motive of deception. The crew, on the 
other hand, were impressed (I refer to a time subsequent 
to this period) by tlie more obvious points of his charac^ 
‘ter, by liis excellence as a seaman and by his ‘Earnin’,” 
for he wrote, spelt, and read well, had a' knowledge of 
French, and, barring myself, was the only man in that 
forecastle who could sign his name. ^ 

He had some books in his chest, and would lie in his 
buifk reading when the others were sleeping or yarning^ 
together in the forecastle. Sometimes he would lie with 
the book open before his face, but his eyes away from it, 
fixed with unwinking lids, and his lips moving rapidly, 
as though he were getting a lesson by heart. I once asked 
him for^the loan of a book, and be threw me the volume 
lie held in his hand. It was an old book, printed a hun- 
dred vears before, containing a history of witches, wdth a 
monstrous frontispiece representing an old woman skin- 
ning a cat. One of the men looking over my shoulder 
roared out, — 

•'Hallo! here’s Old Windward’s wife, makm a rabbit 
pie agin the brig gets home!” 

On which Deacon exclaimed, — ^ 

"Pass us that book along. If the day of judgment 
were to come, there’d be men to joke over it. 

He spoke with so much passion that I pitched him the 
book at once to save a quarrel. 


LITTLE LOO, 


69 


One strange freak of his was his habit of making dia- 
grams on paper or with chalk on the deck; which, when 
executed, he would immediately obliterate with his foot, 
or tear the paper into minute pieces. His face at such 
moments was a real study; his frowning.forehead, pursed- 
up mouth, bright excited eyes and whispering lips, sug- 
gested 'a degree of engrossment quite incomprehensible. 

One moiling, seeing liim with a stump of pencil at 
work on a fly-leaf (he possessed a blank log-book, and 
obtained paper by tearing out the leaves), I crossed over 
to his bunk, and asked him to let me see what he was 
drawing. 

He covered the paper with his hand, and looked at me 
angrily, then around to see what attention my remark had 
excited. In a few moments, however, the angry expres- 
sion went out of his face, and he said, — 

‘‘You saved my life, Jacl^, and I ought to be yours, 
body and soul.’’ 

“ Oh, stop that ! I don’t want your body nor soul either,” 
I answered. “ I only wish to know whose portrait you. 
are always taking on the slj?” 

He appeared to undergo some internal struggle, looking 
at me intently meanwhile. My curiosity was red hot, and 
I stuck by him to see what he would do. 

“There!” he sings out, “you can look.” 'And so 
sayiMg, he handed me the paper. 

I>p starts old Sammy, who was smoking on a chest 
with his eyes closed, and roars out, — 

“ Let’s look, mate, let’s look!” 

“No, no,” I answered; “ fair’s fair. This is for me.” 

I took the paper to the light, but all that I could see 
was. this — 



s 


70 


LITTLE LOO. 


Sam, however, unheard by me, had crawled to my back, 
.and catching sight of the scrawl, roared out, — 

It ain’t a likeness; it’s a bit o’ gee-ography!” 

Let me see, Sniggers!” cried Little Welchy. 

And me! and me!” chorused the others. 

Pass it round, and be hanged to ye!” shouted Deacon, 
lifting his legs into his bunk, and lying down. . - 

It was comical to see the men fingering ij with their 
rough hands, twisting the paper about, cocking their 
heads at it, and turning it ujiside down. 

There’s a mariner’s compass up in the corner,^” says 
Lucky Billy, 

Yes, that’s right enough,” cries Beauty Blunt; ^^but 
what’s the meaning o’ that thing like a plum-dufi atop o’ 
a pole with a man’s mark underneath?” 

’Tain’t some new-fangled notion o’ a mau-o’-war, is it, 
Sniggers?” says another, in *an insinuating tone of voice, 
hoping thereby to receive a solution of the enigma. 

Iso answer from Deacon. 

^*7 say it’s a piece o’ gee-ography,” shouts old Sam, 
^^like wot the 'skippers steers the brig by. Ain’t that 
• right. Sniggers?” 

Xo answer. * 

You’re a scholard. Jack,” Beauty says to me. Tell 
us what it is, matey.” 

I have no notion.” 

I’ll lay Sniggers don’t know what it means hiss^lf 1” 
growls Sam, returning to his seat with a face of contempt, 
which, however, but thinly masks his flaming curiosity. 

When you’ve done, hand it up,” says Deacon. 

I passed it to him, and he immediately tore it up, and 
turned his face toward the ship’s side. The subject was 
dropped, and in a few moments the men had forgotten all 
about it. 


CHAPTER XV. 

A DEAD CALM. 

It was not long before the crew began to find out that 
Miss Franklin was a ^^reg’lar, proper kind of g'nl,” to use 
their own phrase. I heard this expression delivered by the 
man named Suds with a spasm of gloomy jealousy a*id dis- 


LITTLE LOO. 


71 


appointment, for with it was coupled a long- wandering 
statement of how she had come up and yarned with him 
when at the wheel; and this was a condescension I had 
thought it my privilege only to invite and obtain. Others 
likewise had experiences to relate of pleasant sentences 
addressed to them by her. In fact, she was wonderfully 
popular forward, merely through the force of a word and a 
kind smile. 

It must ha’ been a rum fovv^l as laid them two heggs,” 
Suds observed thoughtfully, referring to the brother and 
sister. In my opinion they’re as abke in feelin’ as a 
man-eatin’ savage is to the priest as tries to convart him.” 

Somehow work became a pleasure when she was on deck; 
she would follow us about with her brown innocent eyes, 
and tremendous were the exertions of the younger among 
the crew when ordered aloft if she happened to be looking 
on, and frequent the backward glances they would thrqw 
at her half-frightened, half-admiring face, as they hung 
on by their eyelids or disdained the footropes for the lifts.. 

Old Windward did all that he dared to prevent the men 
from answering if she spoke to them: and he soon made- 
them understand that a penalty must attend the pleasure- 
of a word from her; by singling out the man she had last 
accosted for a spell of hard work and a bitter dressing. It 
was the Princess and the Ogre in the fairy-book: every 
wretch the Princess spoke to the Ogre devoured. As for 
the skipper I never particularly noticed that he interfered 
with her in this respect: perhaps he had charged -the 
mate to see to it. was the only interdicted one so far as 
his express orders to her went: of this I had no doubt: 
for whereas (as I would hear from the men) she con- 
tinued to speak to others of the crew, me she avoided, 
though often when she fancied I was not looking, I would 
find her watching me over the top of her book. 

Por three weeks we carried strong, favorable winds; the 
days all blue sky and white clouds rolling steadily athwart 
our mastheads: the nights filled with the stars and the 
'Sea with fire and lines of foam. 

^Yh were now, as nearly as I could calculate by scoring 
up the time and. speed, near to or abreast of the Cape de 
Verde Islands. The north-east trades, which we had 
picked up a few days before, had brought us fairly to thia 
point, and then they failed-. - 


LiTXLK LOU. 


■^2 

This loss of these regular galps, which extend from 
^bout 30° N. to within a few degrees of the equator, 
was not likely to be permanent; but their intermission 
chafed the skipper to the heart, and I heard him sifeaking 
about it to Old Windward in the concentrated tones of a 
man whose cold, insane passion would prompt him to 
curse heaven itself for thwarting him. 

The calm fell at about four o’clock in the afternoon. 
How the barometer stood I did not know: but I had been 
to sea long enough to witness signs in the color of the 
blue sky, from which every cloud had vanished, to make 
me think it would behoove the skipper to keep a sharp 
look-out that night. 

There was a long, heavy swell rolling up from the west- 
ward, and the brig, steadied no longer by the weight of 
wind, wallowed in it like any old barge, the water gurg- 
ling up to the level of her bulwarks. 

The discomfort of a gale of wind at sea is slight com- 
pared to the discomfort of a heavy swell in a calm. The 
jerk upon the rigging is tremendous, and it seems nnrac- 
ulons that the sudden lurch which inclines the heavy 
mtist^' and spars to an angle of 40°, and makes the 
shrouds and backstays shriek like the uprooted man- 
drake, should not draw the chain plates as though they 
were wire. 

But the worst part of the business is on deck and be- 
low. Whatever is insecurely lashed carries away.'what^ 
ever is movable runs from side to side: if heavy, look out 
for your shins and head: if light, you have all your work 
to catch it, and, when caught, to hold on to it. 

The forecastle lamp swung with its flaming spout against 
the deck, and we had to bend on a news|anyard to pre- 
vent the lire from scorching the planking Old Sam’s 
chest carried away, and t)efore he could clitcll it, it was 
hurled against one of tlie lower bunks and burst open : 
out popped its effects, like a tribe of liberated rabbits — a 
miscellany fit to furnish the magazine of a rag and bottle 
man; we all turned to, to lend him a hand to. recover his 
property, but whilst we groped the lamp went out; a£ the 
-same moment Suds, who was sound asleep in a top bunk, 
was pitched out upon us, and there we sprawled in a heap 
in darkness, groaning and laughing and panting, drag- 
ging at each other to regain our footing, while Old 


LITTLE LOO. 73 -' 

Sammy called all the sea-blessin^’s he conld think of upon 
the brig. 

The man the most to be pitied, however, was Scum, the 
cook. It was not enough that the swell had converted 
his galley into a band-box rattling with cooking utensils; 
a pot of cold pea- soup, well whitened atop with settled 
pork-fat, had capsized over his head and down his back, 
between his shirt and skin, while he was stooping to 
collect a discharge of spoons and forks; the chilly slime 
had completely turned his stomach, already disordered by 
the unusual rolling, and there he lay, sea-sick among his 
saucepans, his face, like a pumpkin, upon the deck. I 
was rendered incapable of helping him for some moments 
by a fit of laughter, after which I hauled him out of his 
troubles, and put him with his back against the outside of 
the galley, where the fresh air revived him* 

The order having been given to take in the fore-topmast 
studding sail, I and Lucky Billy went aloft to rig in the 
boom. 

I was used to climbing masts very much loftier than 
the Little Loo^s, and laying out on yards as thick and as 
long again, and handling sails big enough, each of them, , 
to have furnished a whole suit for the brig; but never 
since 2 had been to sea had I made an ascent so difficult,, 
uncomfortable, I may truly say perilous, as the one I now 
adventured. In a breeze or gale of wind a vessel ne^^er 
rolls far to windward, consequently the weather rigging 
is always at an ang^ more or less sharp, with the sea, and ’ 
offers therefore a ladder well adapted for climbing. But 
now the brig rolled as heavily to port as to starboard, so 
that when she heeled over on my side she threw me, so to 
speak, on my back — like a fiy on the ceiling — and several 
times my feet slipped off the ratlines, and left me' swinging 
clear for the water from my hands. 

As to Billy he was very nearly shot out of the foretop^ 

When we got upon the yard w^e found it a regular see- 
saw; one moment v/e were hoisted to the heavens, the next 
we were depressed to the sea. We had only one band 
apiece to use, for with the other we clung to the jack- 
stay; and it took us longer to rig in the boom than it 
would have taken us, in smooth water, to send down both 
royal yards. 

All this time Old Windward was roaring ac us for a pair 


74 


LITTLE LOO. 


of lubbers, glad of a cbanee, I dare say, to humiliate me 
before Miss Franklin, as he would remember the stifled 
laughter with which I greeted her question to him about 
his being married. However, he might roar to us as he 
pleased, we would not hasten, nor in the smallest degree 
imperil our salvation to please him. 

I took a look around me from the fore- top. Clothing 
was in sight, and the sky was a dome of blue; but the 
horizon was narrow with a deceptive haze, and there was 
everything in the color of the cloudless sky to make me 
stiirstrongly forebode a change of weather before the sun 
came again out of the sea. 

The aspect of the rolling hull from this elevation was 
striking. She plunged her channels into the water, and 
lifted -them, pouring like cataracts; now the deck sloped 
far away on my right; now it was under me; now away on 
my left. The hull groaned under this straining, and the 
liard canvass striking against the masts filled the air all 
around with reports like endless discharges of musketry. 

The mainsail was hauled up and made as snug as bunt- 
lines and leech-lines could make it, to save it from chafing; 
the jib-sheets were flattened in, the trysail brailed up, the 
great boom steadied, and the vangs roused taut. But all 
the rest of the canvas,- to the royals, was left standing. ^ 

As I went forward I looked at the sea, and was struck with 
the wonderful majesty of its appearance — at the mighty 
swell, gliding, noiseless, but with a force incalculable and 
irresistible, under a surface like oil, mie immense volume 
succeeding another, now lifting the brig so that the 
ridged horizon could be seen for leagues, now letting her 
sink until the glimmering green of the mountain tops on 
eitlieiyside was alone visible. 

We had a job in getting our tea along from the galley. 
Snoring Jimmy (as one of the men was unjustly called, 
for in respect to the faculty -that won him his nickname, 
he was in no degree superior to the rest) scalding himself 
severely in the hand, whereupon he set up such a cry that 
some of us darted up the scuttle in the persuasion that a 
man had tumbled overboard. 

Once settled down to meals, however, we made no trouble 
of the rolling, though. Old Sam, v/hose opinions were 
respected as emanating from a mariner of fifty j^ears^ 
standing, observed that ^Uhere never wos a general cargo 


LITTLE LOO. 


that didn^t stand a chance o’ displacement by such rolling 
as this, and if it did shift, why the sooner we went to 
prayers the better.” 

I don’t owe the old cuss no grudge myself,” sa3'S 
another: but if she dew go, I hope she’ll take Old 

Windward and the skipper along with her, ancTleave me 
behind to see ’em drownded.” 

^^Do ye know,” cries Little Welchy, that 1 reckon 
Old Windward’s the ugliest man as ever went to sea, 
barrin’ none. And yet his mother wur a handsome woman, 
too,” he added reflectively. 

What do you know about his mother?” callsi^out Old 
Sammy. 

I’ll tell you. Old Windward’s father were a Sheerness 
man, he wur. He had one eye, a mouth on one. side like 
a hole in a dead-eye, a nose that wur drawed out by drink 
as long as a carrot, and everybody said he wur the ugliest 
man in the world. AYomeii used to run avay whe'n they 
saw him a cornin’. My mother did, and fell down a cellar 
and broke her leg, and had me a sight out o’ her dead 
reckoning, all in consequince.” 

Thought you was a Welchman?” says Suds. 

Well, and can’t a Welchman have a mother as lived 
in Sheerness?” cries Welchy; you’re always interruptin’ 
a man. Suds. One day he made bold to orfer to a percik’ler 
handsome woman— an out an’ outer, Sammy, vith hair 
two fathom long, and everything ship-shape and proper. 

“ Says she: ‘You caravan- monkey you, wot do you want 
o’ me?’ 

“Says Old Windward’s father: ‘My dear. I’ve ^got an 
idea. You’re bootiful, but ain’t got no sense. I’m ugly, 
with tons o’ brains. If we marry, our young ’uns ’ll have 
your loveliness and my hintellects — and, vith such a fort- 
une, they’ll be the fust people in the world!’ 

“Well, missis wor struck with this notion, gave a tea- 
jwty, a proper blow-out o’ muffins an’ radishes — talks the 
notion over, an’ marries. Now, Sammy, wot happens? 
They has children — no, they has one child. Old Wind- 
ward; and wot the father says wur correct, only it warn’t 
accurate; the son got the father’s mug and the mother’s 
stoopidness. And so that’s the true and genu-ine history 
of Old Windward, boys.” 

This anecdote, though strictly founded in Little 


76 ^ LITTLE LOO. 

* 

Welchy’s imagination, and at the same time recited in an 
idiom that inspired me with grave doubts of his Leek-\^\\ 
paternity, met with great applause, the crew by this time 
detesting tke mate, and welcoming any kind of abuse of 
him. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A STORM. 

I LEFT them abusing the mate and took my pipe on the 
forecastle. In a few moments I was joined by Deacon. 
He settled himself down alongside of me, and, after look- 
ing hard at the sky, said that there was a gale of wind in 
" it or some bad change: ^^It was no fine weather sky. It’s 
just the color of the blue I have seen in women’s eyes 
whose natures it’s death to trust.” 

I cannot see the use of keeping a pile of canvas on a 
yessel during a rolling bout like this,” I exclaimed, almost 
startled just then by an exceptionally heavy lurch of the 
brig, and the furious smacking of the canvas against the 
masts and rigging. I should let go all halyards, haul 
out the reef tackles, and clew up fore and aft ready for 
setting again. See how that would save the clnife, and 
case the strain on the spars.” 

^^This is your first voyage before the mast, isn’t it?” 

^^Yes.” 

^^Do you Rnow navigation?” 

•^Certainly.” 

All about finding the longitude by lunar observations, 
Riid the time at any given meridian; and I suppose you 
can work out the latitude by double altitudes?” 

You question me like a nautfcal examiner,” I said, 
looking at him surprised. Probably you know more 
navigation than I do.” 

Don’t believe that,” he answered with a laugh. I’m 
a bad hand at figures, and never could make top nor bot- 
tom of logarithms. Could you navigate a vessel to any 
part of the world?” 

I think I could, with a good chart. I might not feel 
very comfortable, perhaps, in the China Seas, about 
Loo-Choo, for instance, and the squattering islands . . ” 

‘^Who wants to go so far ISTorth?” he interrupted. 


LITTLE LOO. 


77 

looking at me with a singular expression in his eye. 
/^Tlie Pacific is the ocean for me — there’s room to move 
there — adventures to be met — new lands to be discovered, 
with gold in their hearts, gold, new, shining — and ready 
manufactured, too, eh! who knows? Do you know any- 
thing ot the weather ofi the Horn?” 

‘‘ I rounded the Horn in April, running before a strong 
westerly gale.” 

How high does the ice come in August?” 

I don’t know. My later voyages have been to India 
and China, and I was too young when in the P£).cific to re- 
member much about it.” 

At this moment, Suds, who played the concertina, 
emerged from the scuttle, and began to tune up on that 
delectable instrument. Nothing more dismal than Suds’s 
performance could be conceived by human imagination; 
one tune, which I never hear to this day without seeing 
the brig’s forecastle and smelling again the smells apper- 
taining thereto, — one tune, I say, to wit, Dublin Bay,” 
he knew through, and played it over and over again; other 
tunes he was acquainted with in part only, and his inven- 
tion furnishing him with completions to them, the com- 
pounds were truly villainous. Dismal was the effect pro- 
duced upon my nerves when someone of the crew, hearing 
the concertina, would begin, — 

We-hee sailed er- way-hay 
Prom Dub-ber-lin Bay-hay,” 

a challenge which others, even less musically gifted, would 
accept, and generate a clamor compared to which the or- 
chestra of a dozen cats performing on walls and liousetops 
were pure melody. The crew, however, found his execu- 
tion very pleasing and skillful, and watched his fingers, 
their pipes in their mouths, with very steady admiration; 
nor could any amount of repetition weary them. 

These hurdy-gurdyish strains silenced Deacon. I 
thought a little over his questions, and then they went out 
of my mind. 

We were in latitudes where the twilight is a brief luxury. 
The sun went down without a cloud to augment or reflect 
its glory; it sank a round, clean-edged shield of fluctuat- 
ing purple; but whilst its setting light lay on the sea, a 
pictuKe magnificent beyond words to convey was submitted 


78 


LITTLE LOO. 


by the mighty ocean-swell rolling beneath it, each liquid 
mountain as it swept through the blood-red reflection 
changing from blue to gold. 

The gloom gathered quickly when the upper limb of 
the sun, like a live ember on the rim of the sea, disap- 
peared, and the few stars that twinkled overhead glim- 
mered sparely. 

There was every promise, indeed, of a black night, even 
if no change came, for we had lost the moon. 

It was my look-out 'forward, when eight bells were 
struck and the starboard watch came on deck. The heavy 
rolling of the brig was distracting, fatiguing the body 
greatly by the work it enjoined upon one to preserve one’s 
perpendicular, and I looked with as much anxiety probably 
as the skipper himself for a show of wind. • 

The sea was now a space of profound shadowy black, 
yet somehow impressing the sight with a sense of its 
transparency so that its blackness had a distinct cha^’acter 
amid the general gloom. I cannot describe the awe that 
filled my mind when I contemplated the vague, indefinite 
space that stretched for miles and miles around; its move- 
ments invisible, yet the wonder of its mighty strength 
gathering an element of horror out of the blackness that 
enveloped us each time the brig was hove high on the in- 
visible swell, and dropped into the hidden a%sm. 

There wei^ phosphorescent glancings all, around the 
vessel, but none beyond her; each time she raised her 
sides out of the sea the water poured from her chains in 
streams of fire; and to the depth of many feet below the 
surface her chopping stem, as the swell buried her nose 
and laid the flying jib-boom level with the sea, cut the 
water into foam seething with light, and outlined glitter- 
ing forms wherein a far less imaginative mind than mine 
might have witnessed many weird and fantastic images* 

Liverpool Sam, who it seems could not rest below, came 
groping his way up to me, and grumbled at tlie skipper 
for not shortening sail when there was light to see by. 

‘'^It’s justa sort of night to fall overboard,” growled 
he. ‘MVho’s to tell where ye are and who it is? When 
I was a youngster, if a man tumbled into the sea at night, 
they’d send a flaring life-preserver arter him — something 
as ’ud show us wTiere he was, and him what to catch hold 


LITTLE LOO, 


79 


on* But these times are too knowin’, I s’pose, to use 
such things as them. It ’ud be a fat splash to sound 
above the rattle them sails kicks up. ’’ 

I suppose there’s a barometer on board,” said I, ^^ and 
the mercury knows more about the future than you or I. 
It may have told the skipper to hold on with his canvas, 
though I didn’t like the look of the sky much this even- 
ing,*' and don’t understand the meaning of this swell.” 

Mercury!” exclaimed the old man in a voice of dis- 
gust. What’s mercury got to do with the weather? /’m 
for lettin’ of it be as physic. Why, there are men as’ll 
tell you- what the weather’s goin’ to be agin all the barom- 
ayters that wur ever made. I’ve been shipmates with 
skippers who’ve said, ^ glass is fallen, that means foul 
weather, but my eye is risen, and I’ll hold on all.’ And 
riglit they was. Give me the eye afore all your glasses. 
Mercury! if there warn’t better signs nor that to tell ye 
what’s going to happen, I reckon the shipwright’s ’ud 
have a bloomin’ time of it.” By which he meant that 
there-would be many wrecks. 

Sam was one of those conservative sailors who hold 
sternly on to the past, down to about their grandfathers’ 
time. They taboo all innovation, they accept no improve- 
ments. If they do not cry up Xoah’s ark as the only sort 
of craft fit to go afloat in, it is because she was built a lit- 
tle before their time; but be sure that, if E'oah had been 
their grandfather, his ark would have been the model 
hull, from whose lines all departure must be rank herevsy. 

As a rule these men are good sailors, but never work 
without grumbling. Any sort of improved gear, any 
patent apparatus of what kind soever, the fruits of genius 
and patience, and a mighty boon to mariners, will furnish 
them with a grievance for a whole voyage. They stub- 
bornly turn their quids and talk of fifty year ago, when 
skippers was fit men to take command, afore steam came 
in to turn sailors into colliers, when him as couldn’t read 
made the smartest captain, and when men wanted no 
Board o’ Trade lamin’ to sail a ship properly.” 

I was about to say a few words in humble mitigation of 
bis contempt of mercury when he suddenly shouted, — 
Swaller me, mate, if there ain’t. a composant!” 

I looked up and beheld what I had never seen before, 
though a sight familiar to most sailors, a small globe of 


80 


LITTLE LOO. 


blue flame hovering over the end of the fore-topsail yard* 
arm. 

It remained for some mopients stationary at this pointy 
though one would have thought that the rolling of the 
vessel would leave it above or below the end of the spar, 
and then it vanished; but in a moment or two it reap- 
peared, or another was kindled, on the fore-yard arm 
just about our heads, on which old Sammy, sputtWing 
out, — 

Don’t let it shine on ye; the devil’s luck is in its 
light!” hurriedly groped his way to the scuttle and dis- 
appeared. 

Not sharing the old man’s superstitious fears, I fixed 
my, eyes on tho exhalation and examined it attentively. 
In luster it was extremely pale, though it diffused a cir- 
cular area of glimmering mist. It looked to me to be 
ignited air, though why it should be localized, neither 
extending nor diminishing, I could not understand. It 
was an extremely interesting phenomenon; and, as the 
familiar will-o’-the-wisp is due to the gas generated in 
marshes, so I assumed this exhalation to be the sponta- 
neous firing of electricity in the air. They are attracted 
chiefly by the upper iron-work about a ship, and burn 
steadily in gales of wind. They superstitiously affect 
sailors, the notion being that they are supernatural prog- 
nostics of good or ill, according as they rise or fall from 
the spot .on which they first show themselves. 

Suddenly Old Windward hailed me. 

‘MVhere’-S that compreesant* gone?” 

^^Out, sir.” 

Where did it go from the foredopsail yard arm?” 

On to the fore-yard arm.” 

After a short pause, he bawled, — 

Clew up the. fore and main royals. Let go the flying- 
jib-halyards!” 

These orders, immediately following the appearance of 
this ghostly light, excited a feeling of awe and mystery 
among the men, in which I could not Jielp sharing. A 
couple of hands went aloft in silence to stow tlie royals, 
and I could picture them in the darkness goggle-eying the 

* Sometimes so pronounced. The word, I believe, is derived from 
Carpus SancU, or rather it is sailors’ pronunciation of the Latin. 


LITTLE LOO. 81 

faintly-glimmering spars and rigging around them^ on the 
look-out for the spectral light. 

The next order given was to clew up the fore-topgallant- 
sail. 

Ain’t that like Old Windward?” croaked one of the 
men. ^^When it wur light, nothen was to be touched. 
Now that the brig’s a hurrah’s nest for the darkness and 
you can’t see to feel your nose, it’s shorten sail!” 

Certainly, work under the circumstances was extremely 
laborious and unpleasant. A vapor was now drawn across 
the sky which completely shut out the feeble starlight, 
and the darkness was absolute. It was a positive relief to 
turn the eye upon the binnacle, the lamp in which diffused 
a glow upon the black air around and shone upon the man 
standing at the wheel, thowing out his figure in ghostly 
relief upon the Cimmerian background. 

Having stowed the jib and upper canvas, we — the watch 
on deck— squatted in a body on the forecastle waiting 
further orders. 

This is a proper kind of night for a fire on board 
ship,” said the raven notes of Deacon. God, what a 
sight! the sea and sky red with the flaming hull! it would 
look more like the Last Day, the Day of Judgment, mates, 
than anything that ever was imagined.” 

For the Lord’s sake stow them notions o’ yonrn, Snig- 
gers!” whispered little Welchey. ‘^Always talkin’ o’ the 
Last Day, are! If you mean it for a lark, I say it ain’t 
fair to men who’ve heerd o’ compresents afore now, and 
know what they sinnifies.” 

If there’s e’er a man as is willin’ to sneer at them 
corpus lights, I’m agreeable to tell him suinmat as’ll 
make him think twice afore he speaks again about ’em,” 
said Lucky Billy. And without being asked to relate his 
experience, he proceeded: — 

Fourteen year ago come next month I shipped aboard 
a bark; we was in the North Sea, and it came on one 
night to blow hard. A man named Jim Herring, stanning 
close alongside o’ me sings out, ^ Strike me bluq, Billy, if 
there ain’t one o’ them bloomin’ compreesants; and though 
they looks to be made o’ fire, I’ve heerd they don’t burn, 
and blast me if I don’t go and catch him!’ Well, up he 
goes and lays out along the fore-topgallant yard, and just 
when he’s close to it, and like as you might say grabbin’ 


-82 


LITTLE LOO. 


at it, the blessed thing it drops to liis feet: down /die 
squats upon the foot-rope, and the light goes up/ and 
shines over liis head. Up gets Jim upon the yam, but 
-the light it rolls over to port, and a^way goes Jimmy arter 
It.- He might as well ha’ tried to catch a shootin’ star. 

I heard him swearing up in the dark, tho’ it warn’t 
so dark as that we as was watchin’ couldn’t see him; and 
jiresently the compreesant shines out upon the fore-royal 
truck. Up goes Jim, lettin’ fly his temper as never I 
heard the like, when wot do you think? just when he got 
his hand as high as the truck, I see with my own blessed 
eyes the figure of a woman with vings hanging over the 
masthead, just as if she were a wane, whilst the com- 
preesant vent and burnt upon her forehead. I heard Jim 
cry out, and then, mates, as I live to speak, be fell, for I 
see him toss up his hands, and I roared out, ^ From under! 
He’s a dead man!’ but though we all waited to hear his 
body strike the water or deck, with the sweat pouriiF 
like rain down our faces, blowed if there wur any noise at 
all. ^ He’s caught in the riggin’!’ sings out some one, 
and up we ran to give him a hand. But he was nowheer’s 
in sight. We looked into the tops, we sarched the cross- 
trees, we ealled to him at the top o’ our voices. I tell ye, 
mates, he wur gone; h^ hadn’t fallen into the water and 
he ivarn’t deck. Where was he?^’ . 

A dead silence followed^ this question. 

saj, where was he?” cried Lucky Billy. 

^^Tell us, Bilhq” said Little Welchy, in a tremulous 
voice. 

Why, carried off, speerited away by the woman as 
the compreesant belonged to. What else?” 

“ What use was he to her?” inquired Suds. 

never met her to ax the question,” rejoined Billy 
contemptuously. Wot becomes o' the dead? I suppose 
there’s nary man here as don’t know that them oompree- 
sants are speerits as can grow into figures o’ their own 
wills? Didn’t I know a man as took his dying oath that 
one o’ them speerits with a compreesant shintng like a eye 
in her forehead tried to knock him off the foot- ropes, and 
that thinkin’ he must go, and that there warn’t no use in 
holding on against a speerit’s arm, he calls over the Lord’s 
Prayer by way o’ recommendin’ himself, that psalm bein’ 


LITTLE LOO. 83 

all he knew in that way, yen hinstanfcly the speerit disap- 
peared. 

Here Little Welchy exclaimed restlessly, It’s imirder- 
in’ dark. I never could see the use o’ darkness, myself, 
ril swear it ^Lirn’t invented for men. Wot were eyes 
given to us for, if half the time we aren’t able to see out 
of ’em?” 

But dark as it was, I could perceive a thicker stratum 
of darkness growing in the west. It was not to be seen 
by looking at it, but by looking away from it, on either 
hand. 

‘^That’s where the storm will come from;” I said. 

Well, half a pipe o’ baccy afore it breaks, says I,” ex- 
claimed Suds, and he went into the forecastle. 

At midniglit the starboard watch was relieved. By this 
time the blackness in the west had overspread the whole 
of the sky, and it was easy to distinguish this new envelop- 
ing shroud of stooping, motionless cloud from the higher 
thickness that had first blotted out the stars. 

The state of suspense in which we were kept by this 
sullen, brooding blackness, this Egyptian opacity of at- 
mosphere was disagreeable and painful. It was impossi- 
ble to gaze round upon the overwhelming midnight with- 
out awe and an eager longing for any change from the 
death-like stillness and the mighty, voiceless heaving that 
made a toy of the brig. 

Kone of us thought it worth while to undress, as we 
knew not but that the next instant would summon us on 
deck. I lay down in my bunk, and more than at any 
other period* of my time at sea did I feel the insecurity of 
the sailor’s life. I figured to myself the insignificance of 
the vessel in comparison with the world of waters on which 
she was rolling, the immensity of the storm-charged 
heavens, and the speck that we presented under them. 

Is not a miracle wrought by every ship that reaches 
port after a voyage? When we consider the astounding 
forces op230sed to vessels, the treachery of the seas in their 
shoals, currents and waves, the fury of the gales wliich 
waste their whole strength on them, the wonder surely is 
not that a few of them are wrecked, but that one of them 
lives to revisit the port from ^yhich she sailed. 

The heat was so o{)[)ressive in the forecastle that I could 
not rest.' The electric condition of the atmosphere, more- 


84 : 


LITTLE LOO. 


over, had put my nerves out of tune, and I found mys^f 
listening anxiously for any sound that should denote riie 
coining of the storm. / 

Presently I heard Banyard’s voice; rigging was tjirown 
upon the deck, and I gathered that the wS-tch were tak- 
ing in the main-top-gallant sail.. Shortly after this was 
done, the order was given to double reef the fore- topsail. 
The jib-halyards were also let go, and the watch had their 
hands full of work. 

Suddenly the fore-scuttle turned into a square of livid 
blue, followed, though at a long interval, by a rumbling 
of thunder, * Again came another flash of lightning, 
brilliant enough to illuminate the whole forecastle, and 
ghastly was the momentary eflect, for the bearded faces 
around looked like decaying corpses in the glare. 

^'All hands shorten sail!” shouted Banyard down 
the scuttle, accompanying the call by some heavy beat- 
ing. 

Scarcely had I reached the deck when the heavens flew 
open from north to south, rent by a flash of lightning, 
the terrific near streaming of which caused me to cover 
my eyes with my hand. Then such a shock of thunder 
followed as no tongue can express; it was a sheer headlong 
roar, as of a world hurled Lucifer-like down the vault of 
the sky. The brig trembled as though she would fall to 
pieces, and' the very ocean-swell that raised and depressed 
her seemed to fall under the echo and shock of that astound- 
ing volley. 

The rain began in a few warm drops; but liberated by 
another flash, that threw up the whole compass of the sea 
to the horizon, it came down in a sheet; the decks 
tiiundered under the fall, and the water rushed roaring 
and foaming through the scupper-holes. 

Let go the main-topsail halyards! double reef the 
sail! up with the foresail — up with it, men, before the 
wind comes! Rouse out your reef-tackles there I The 
lightning won’t hurt ye! chock a block with it. Hands 
aloft now!” 

Such were the commands howled out by Old Windward, 
scarcely audible amid the rushing of the rain, and drowned 
by the rattling of the thunder. We worked in silence and 
in awe, no man knowing but that the next flash might 
rive the masts or set the brig on fire. The illumination- 


LITTLE LOO. 


85 


of the lightning gave ns no help; on the contrary, its 
frightful lancings, glittering blue an instant only, left our ' 
eyes the blinder, and the darkness the more impenetrable 
for them. 

The thunder, exploding overhead like parks of artillery, 
stunned and bewildered us, and prevented us from catch- 
ing the orders screamed out in duettos by the captain and 
Old AVindward. AVherever there was iron— at the yard- 
arms, on the anchors, ties, cables — there was the electric 
fluid writhing like serpents. AVe were soaked to tlie 
skin, and such was the torrent of rain that fell, that the 
water in the waist was up to our knees, and as the vessel 
rolled, it fell like a cataract against us, and swept some of 
ns on our backs. 

The skipper,, not satisfied with double reefs, ordered, 
the topsails to be close-reefed. By the time we had 
snugged the canvas and coiled down ready for running, 
the storm had diminished. The lightning darted only at 
long intervals, and the thunder muttered like some wound- 
ed fugitive beast all round the horizon. The rain fell 
steadily, but as yet there was no sign of wind, and the 
night remained as black as ever it had been. 

Go below, the starboard watch, but stand by for a 
call,’^ sung out the mate, which was a hint to us not to 
turn in. 

AYe took advantage of this interval to put on dry clothes 
and get ready our oilskins; and now behold Jack Muck in 
his true character: with a terrible danger scarcely passed, 
and for aught they knew a yet more terrible danger in the 
shape of a sudden tempest of wind at hand, the men could 
still pass their jokes, light their pipes and skylark,” as 
thoug^li the brig were sailing along an azure sea, wafted by 
breezes as soft and warm as a woman’s breath. 

Stripped to his drawers, and drying himself on whatever 
came to hand, SiRls found his chest upside down. Then 
came some practical joking. Beauty Blunt, a big, square- 
jawed, heavy, ugly man, seated himself upon the chest and 
defied' Suds to dress himself. ; Suds, thinking that his 
chest had been put wrong side up in malice, lost his 
temper. Hard thumps were exchanged, and Suds was 
driven against Snoring Jimmy, who tipped over and 
swallowed some hot. ash from his pipe, on which he kicked 
at Suds, and drove him into Beauty’s arms- 


86 


LITTLE LOO. 


Beau ty, believing that Suds was attacking him in earnest^ 
started up^ and a serious encounter was threatened; but 
some unseen foot tripped Suds over, who in falling brought 
down Beauty; a heavy lurch of the brig tumbled a third 
man over the prostrate couple, and Little Welchy, singing 
out tfiat Suds’- chest was all right, raised it oftthe lid, and 
out rolled the contents. 

In the midst of this confusion a heavy hissing, roaring 
sound, such as one might imagine is uttered by the !Niag- 
ara Falls when heard at a distance, made jtself audible 
above the uproar in the forecastle. I listened a momenL 
and then shouting out, The gale is upon us, boysP 
darted upon deck. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE GALE. 

As I gained the deck I was nearly knocked down the 
forescuttle by Banyard, who was rushing to call all hands.. 
It was, however, no longer pitch-dark; for in the west the 
stars were shining, though there were clouds among them 
like long arms, and these were arching right over toward 
the brig, out of the horizon. 

' This was the only feature of the night I noticed, for 
within a dozen seconds of the time I reached the deck the 
hurricane struck the brig. 

Figure yourself transported from the calm of a cloister 
into a den of wild beasts, every one.of them bellowing its 
loudest. But such an illustration conveys no idea of the 
uproar and horrible confusion of a sudden squall striking 
a vessel, even when she is prepared for it; for the furious 
wind is no single voice, but a pealing orchestra that runs 
the whole gamut, from hollow, thunderous, deep-toned 
bellows, to screams as shrill, eerie, and'awe-inspiring as 
the shrieking lamentations of mad women. 

The tempest struck us full abeam: and down went the 
brig to it, squattering with bulwark level to the sea, whilst 
the water, torn up in bucketfuls by the wind, just as you 
would tear up a weed by the roots, was hurled against her 
leaning side, and ran high into the air in a^heet of froth. 
The black sky lowered overhead, and clouds like the 
shadows of worlds swept across it furiously. 


LITTLE LOO. 


87 


Would tlie brig right? She lay like a log under the 
howling wind, and every moment seemed a year. I, 
.standing on tiie weather side of the forecastle, felt the full 
force of the gale; and assuredly, had I let go my hold of 
the rail, I should have been blown overboard like a piece 
of paper. 

If Old Windward gave any orders, all that I can say is, 
I never heard them. What human voice could have made 
itself distinguishable above the din that was pealing along 
the lacerated surface of the sea, and among the rigging 
of the brig, every rope of which was a gigantic harp- 
string, with a note of its own for the Titan fingers of the 
storm-fiend to play his devil’s saraband upon? 

Suddenly I heard a report which made me think that a 
thunderbolt had fallen upon us; and looking up, I per- 
ceived that the main-topsail had blown in halves. For 
one moment the divided sail stood, the amidship rent open 
like a yawning mouth; the next instant the canvass was a 
mass of rags flogging the wind in whips from the bolt- 
rope. 

This w^as taking the sail ofl the brig with a vengeance; 
but I am not sure th^ the accident did not save us. The 
brig paid ofl rapidly and righted. I^Iow the wind brought 
us the sound of the mate’s voice; we manned the weather- 
forebraces and squared the yards, and like an arrow from 
% bow we were flying before the gale, crowding the sea 
into a pile of foam at our bows, through the force with 
which the hurricane drove us. 

This was the Iqeaviest gale I had in my own experience 
of the sea encountered. Once in the Bay of Bengal we 
had caught the fag end, or outer circle, of a typhoon, and 
a desperate gale we all thought it; but it lasted only an 
hour, and, severe though as it was, it was no more than a 
strong breeze when compared with the storm before which 
we were now sweeping. 

Captain Franklin stood ,aft at the binnacle watching 
the compass, to ascertain which way the wind veered; for 
in that WTiy alone could he tell in which direction the 
storm was working. The worst of these sudden gales is, 
they will sometimes lull, spring up right ahead with re- 
doubled fury, and catch you aback. 

Meanwhile^ Old Windward had sent a batch of men 
aloft to slow what remained of the maintop-sail. The 


88 


LITTLE LOO, 


^ale was blowing due west; hence we were rushing head- 
long due east. Bj the time the men were off the yard, 
the skipper, I suppose, had made his calculations; the 
starboard braces were manned, the gale brought on tho 
port quarter, and the brig headed east- north-east. 

There was now a short iiause. The wind being well 
astern, its force was not comparable to what had been felt 
when the brig lay at a standstill under it. She was rac- 
ing under a close-reefed foretop- sail and foretop-mast stay- 
sail. 

As yet there ,was no sea ^o speak of. The wind ap- 
peared to have leveled the swell, and the sea creamed 
like an ocean of milk — one mighty extent of whirling 
foam showing ghastly v/hite in the gloom. 

In a few minutes the-mate roared out to us to clew up 
the foretop-Siul and furl it. We fell to the work desper- 
ately. Something there was^ in the uproar and violence 
of the tempest that astonished the most experienced 
amongst ns. But the furling of the sail was a terrible 
job. With tl>e bunt-lines, clew-lines, and leech-lines 
snugging the clothes as effectually as could be done by a 
whole watch on each rope, it nevertheless took all hands 
half an hour to roll it up. The canvas bellied from the 
yards like globes of iron, and we stood to it pounding 
with our fists and hauling upon the gaskets until we were 
almost disposed to give up the job as hopeless. ^ 

No sooner was this sail furled than the order was given 
to set the r.eefed mainstay-sail. ''J.’he fore and main yards 
were then checked, and the vesseFs course made more 
northerly, bringing the wind abeanii. t 

The sea was now rising fast; the heavy waves came 
pouring down upon us in quick succession, and our decks 
were soused with the lumps of water which the wind 
chopped out of the leaping heads and flung at us, making 
the planking sputter under the hard discharges as if we 
were being raked with small shot. 

Now,^’ thought I, if this wind holds, Miss Frank- 
lin will see what people mean when they speak of the sea 
running mountains high.” 

Presentl}^ it was ^‘down foretop-mast stay-sail I — tally 
on there -to the lee main-braces;” the helm was put down, 
and the brig hove up close to the wind wi^h nothing on 
her but the reefed stay- sail. 


LITTLE LOO. 


89 


By iliis I reckoned that the skipper bad got hold of the 
Tight direction of the hurricane, and was heading out of 
it. There we lay, lifting heavily to the seas that now 
came booming against the bow and shooting columns of 
foam into the darkness, sagging dead to leeward, fore- 
reaching not an inch, and the hurricane in the rigging 
screeching like a thousand steam-engines. 

A little after four the dawn broke almost astern, so that 
our bowsprit^now pointed directly to the quarter whence 
the hurricane had first rushed upon us. Melancholy, 
indeed, was the picture of the gray, foaming, mountain- 
ous waters under the pallid light, still black and sinister, 
away in the west. Anon the sun rose, a pale and watery 
phantom, with no warmth in its light, and kindling no 
glory in the hurling waste. All hands were still on deck 
and fagged out, looking like drowned mariners, vivified 
for the nonce to work a beaten vessel through a howling 
tempest. Soaked to the skin, our trousers and shirts 
(such of us at least as wore no oilskins) clinging to our 
fiesh and delineating the bones in our bodies, most of us 
capless, Avith our dripping hair sticking streakily upon 
our foreheads, we looked as dismal and half- perished a 
crew as. ever trod shipboard. 

Half the chickens under the long-boat were drowned; 
the lashings of one of the scuttlerbutts had carried away, 
and what remained of the cask was in the scuppers, a pile 
of staves; the deck was littered with rigging, amid which 
the water leaped and hissed to the roll of the brig; aloft, 
everything looked piteous, the ropes black Avith the Avet, 
blowing to leeAvard in semicircles; the sails, Avliich had 
been furled in the dark, lumped up on the yards anyhoAv, 
bits of the rent main topsail still whipping the Avind, 
CA^ervthing slack, soused and Avrecked-looking. 

Old Windward whom I rather suspected, from the ex- 
pression in his eyes, of having fortified his soul Avith seA'- 
eral drams during the hours of darkness and tempest, now 
began to baAvl out afresh; the Avell Avas sounded, and a 
foot of water being made, the pumps Avere manned and 
plied until they sucked. Theft some hands were sent aloft 
to ^nug the sails Avhose bunts looked doubtful, Avhile others 
were set to clear up the decks, to clap tackle upon the back- 
stays, and in other ways to make the brig’s spars secure. 
Indeed, at one time I thought the mate meant to send the 


90 


LITTLE LOO. 


yoyrI yards down, by the way be cocked his eye at them; 
and glad was I that the order was not given, for it was a job 
I, for one, assuredly would not have relished, so complete- 
ly was I worn out. - 

However, we showed ourselves to be a good crew, and 
worked heartily. I remember thinking to myself that if 
ever I got command of a vessel, I should never ask for a 
more willing and active set of men to deal with. Yet our 
heartiness found no favor in the mate’s e'yes; for now 
that he could see us, he cursed us all for a pack of lazy 
blackguards, stamped upon the deck, shook his fisc at us, 
and threatened Little Welchy with a belaying pin. Such 
treatment was enough to produce a mutiny out of hand, 
and, from the temper of the men, ! have little doubt that 
the mate’s impolitic brutality would have had a very dis- 
astrous sequel before the sun was half-an-hour above the 
horizon, if we had not been restrained by sheer weariness 
of body, supplemented by the knowledge of the dangers 
that menaced the brig in the furious gale still blowing, 
and the huge vortices into which she plunged her bow- 
sprit down to the heel of it. 

At seven bells, nothing remaining to be done on deck, 
we ’were sent below to get breakfast. Tired out in body 
and soul, drenched through and shivering — for, though 
we. were in warm latitudes, the wind blew cold and struck 
a bitter chill through our streaming garments — the men 
w^ent into the forecastle sullen and muttering. 

The tyranny of the mate, abetted by the skipper, was 
beginning to operate upon us all; the buoyancy of spirits 
wdiich had been proof against more bullying in a few weeks 
than any of us could remember having experienced in as 
many voyages; the natural light-heartedness of sailors 
which rises superior to dangers, and finds them cheery in 
the very face of grim death itself; were being crushed by 
the despotism of our commanders. 

We ate our breakfast, changed our clothes, and smoked 
our pipes, in silence, some of us sCTetching. our wearied 
limbs in the bunks for a brief interval of repose. ISTo man, 
however prejudiced against sailors, but would have pitied 
us, I think, had he beheld us in that gloomy forecastle, 
the water slopping down in pailfuls through the scuttle, 
the miserable lamp swinging under the blackened beam, 
our meal, after a hard night’s work, being such fare as no 


LITTLE LOO. 


91 


workhouse pauper would look afc, some of us without dry 
clotlies to exchange for our dripping garments, and the 
castle” itself, in which we sat or rested, silent and wea- 
ried, tossed now to the heavens, now plunging with a 
mighty roar of water into the abysms between the seas, 
making our bones ache to the marrow with the tremen- 
dous, never-ending movement.* 

At eight bells the watch was called, contrary to our 
expectations, and it being the port watch’s spell below, 
we turned in and slept away our weariness until dinner- 
time. To our great surprise, on going on deck, we found 
blue sky, a lively breeze abeam, and the watch employed 
in making sail. No vestige of the tempest that had near- 
ly sacrificed us was to be seen save in the still tumbling 
green seas with frothing caps, over which the brig went 
gracefully, looking like herself again in the bright sun- 
shine, and bending to the trade winds blowing freely. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A PK ACTIC AL JOKE. 

A FORTNIGHT of fine winds, and we swam out of the 
fresh trades into those equatorial latitudes where baffling 
catspaws rule, and thunderstorms, and calms, the sailor’s 
curse. 

The captain and his mate now gave us no rest at all. 
From morning until night we were bousing the yards 
about, sending up studding sails and taking them in again, 
sweating the running gear until our hands were in blisters. 
If but a catspaw was beheld on the glassy surface of the 
deep, the cry rose to man the braces, tliough it could have 
been seen that the air was no more than a passing sigh, 
and that the next that came would probably streak the 
horizon in a contrary direction. 

The murmura-of the men were frequent and deep, but 
as yet they had not penetrated aft. 

Pendulum Banyard, however, fared badly at oiir hands. 
His instructions from the skipper were, on no account to 
lose tlie least breath of air; and between his fear of the 
captain and his fear of the men he suffered miserably. 

It happened that one middle watch there was a calm 


92 


LITTLE LOO. 


that showed no signs of a break. The yards were braced 
anyhow,, the brig lay like a log, her white sails glimmering 
faintly in the darkness, and the lucent surface of the sea 
emblazoned with the mirroring of stars. A hand dozed 
at the wlieel; forward both watches lay on the forecastle, 
the interior being an oven of which the atmosphere was 
not to be respired without risk of asphyxia. 

Banyard, seated upop the skylight with his cap off, bent 
his head down to hear if the captain was stirring, then 
pulled out his pipe, filled it, and lighted it at the binnacle 
lamp. This-done, he resumed his seat and smoked sol- 
emnly. But it was a night laden with mesmeric influ- 
enoes; the faint wash of water under the counter, just 
tweaking the rudder so as to make the tiller chains rattle 
harmoniously, was like a mother’s soothing liush in her 
baby’s ear; the starlight poured drowsily upon the eyelids,, 
and the faint stir of the light canvas in the gloom fell 
like a whisper bidding the listener sleep. The pipe drop- 
ped out of Banyard’s mouth; he did not pick it up; pres- ‘ 
ently he was broad on his back, snoring. 

At tins moment a low whistle sounded from the wheel. 
Instantly two dark figures rose up from the prostrate 
crowd on the forecastle and went sneaking on tiptoe aft. 
One of these figures carried a coil of rope, with which he 
sprang into the main rigging. All this I beheld from the 
forecastle, and wondered what mischief was brewing. 
Anon the figure came down and stationed himself at the 
foot of the mainmast; presently he was joined by the 
other who had been busy about ihe unconscious form of 
Banyard. 

There was a short pause, and then a loud 3^ell, and up 
went the body of Banyard. The two men came rushing 
aft. 

^^What have you been doing?” I shouted. ^^The 
rope’s not round his nech, is it?” 

They made no reply and shuffled headlong dowii the 
-scuttle, smothering groans of laughter. The rest of the 
men were now awake, asking one another the meaning of 
this disturbance. I sung out, — 

Some of us have been hanging Banyard, and his body 
swings at the gaff,” and off I ran to lower him downi, the 
others following. 

A glance, however, sufficed to let me know" that it was 


LITTLE LOO. 


93 


not a case of sus. per coll. Pendulum swung to a block 
strapped to within Jialf a dozen feet of the throat of the 
gall; the rogues had slipped a running bowline under his 
armpits whilst he slept^ hoisted him up, and belayed him. 
This was nautical practical joking; had they made him 
fast by the heels and left him to swing head down, the 
humor would have been thought more exquisite by the 
crew. 

Here, lower away, some of you, gently!” shouted the 
poor victim. Who’s served me in this fashion, I should 
like to know? D’ye mean to lower me down, I say? why, 
I weigh _ thirteen stone, you blackguards, and if a strand 
parts I’m a dead man! ” 

There was just enough movement in the sea to keep the 
old fellow slewing and swinging round and round like a 
leg of mutton on a roasting:- jack; but what tickled the 
crew most was the fright ludicrously expressed in the 
man’s attitude — his face, of course, was indistinguisliable; 
he held himself rigid, thinking this would make him a 
lighter weight, and hung like a scarecrow. 

Give us a song, Banyard — you know the one we likes, 
Mr. Second Horficer! ” shouted one of the men, and he- 
began to sing, 

‘‘Oh, the King of the Fleas by the Bed Sea dwells, 

Sing prickatee, hophigh, jumpo, scratch! 

He lives in a city of ruins and smells, 

Sing ho! for a candle and strike me a match ! ” 

^^Give us the chorus, Banyard, you villain!” 

“ From Scotland he came, did this King o’ the Fleas, 

Sing prickatee, hophigh, jampo, scratch! 

'And journey’d to Lunnon by vay o’ the seas, 

Sing ” 

Here some one whispered, The skipper!” and tve skur- 
ried forward on tiptoe, and hung about the shadow of the 
galley to hear the result. 

The Captain came on deck, and went to the binnacle, 
looked about him, and missed the officer on duty.” 

Where’s Mr. Banyard?” he shouted. 

I’m up here, sir!” cried Pendulum. They’ve hoisted 
me up, sir. I’m in danger of my life. Captain!” 

The Captain raised his eyes, and evidently under the* 


94 


LITTLE LOO. 


impression that the poor man was skylarking,” he called 
to him furiously to come down. 

can’t come down, sir! they’ve hitched me under my 
arms, Captain Franklin! For the love of God, lower me 
dowm, sir! I, .heard something snap — yes, by the Lord, 
something snapped, sir! If I fall Fm killed!” cried Ban- 
yard in ghostly tones, not daring to raise his voice, lest the 
exertion sliould make him heavier! 

At this juncture Snoring Jimmy (one of the guilty two) 
burst into a loud hysterical laugh — something betwixt a 
yell and a sneeze. The Captain, seeing how matters stood, 
roared to us to come aft, and lower Mr. Banyard down. 
But nobody stirred; the fact was, nobody liked to show 
himself for fear of being charged with having had a hand 
in the matter. 

^^Is this a mutiny?” shouted the Captain. 

^^It ain’t no mutiny!” responded Suds, disguising his 
voice. ‘^Some one’s bin and taken a rise out o’ the car- 
penter, that’s all.” 

If wind comes,” groaned poor Pendulum out of the 
gloom, they’ll be lettin’ go my rope by mistake. Is this 
a becomin’ position for one o’ your horsifers. Captain 
Franklin? For the Lord’s sake, lower me down, sir!” 

The Captain accordingly approached the mainmast, and 
groping among the belaying pins for Banyard’s line, he 
slackened away. Irrepressible explosions of laughter from 
the men saluted Banyard’s descent, an-d these swelled into 
a roar when the skipper (meanly angry enough to wreak 
his immediate passion on the innocent, rather than obtain 
no satisfaction) let go the rope when Banyard was some 
four oriive feet above the deck, whereby the poor old fel- 
low dropped with a thump that had like to have^ broken 
his back. 

Bring down that block, one of you!” exclaimed the 
skipper, turning away to let us know that no further 
notice would be taken of the matter that night. 

Banyard now came rushing among us, sputtering with 
rage. 

' Where are the blackguards that triced me up?” he 
bawled. ^^If there are twenty on ’em I’ll gi”em a thrash- 
ing one arter the other! If there are forty on ’em, I’ll 
fight ’em! the murderin’ sons of sea-cooks! Was it you 


V 


LITTLE LOO. 


95 


as did it, Billy? or you, or you:, Jim? . and he champed 
the question at us all round. 

AVe all indignantly denied that we knew anything about 
it, and loudly expressed our disgust at his impudence in 
questioning us. The most indignant of all were, of course, 
the two guilty men. Old Sam, howeTer, really got into 
an honest passion when he was questioned. 

You had better not say as I did it!’’ he cried, running 
his eyes up and down Banyard’s figure. . 

^MVho did then?’’ shouted Banyard. 

^^AA^ho 'did? foind out! Think be muckin’ about 
aloft this time o’ night? If you say I did it, you’re a liar, 
and the truth isn’t in yer!” 

You call me a liar agin!” 

Call ye a liar agin!” sailors have a queer trick of re- 
peating what is said to them. ‘‘^AVhy shouldn’t I? AA'k®’s 
afeard o’ you? I could eat a better man nor you f(dr 
breakfast, and never know that I’d had a meal o’ food.” 

ISTow then. Bully AVell-Sounder, you’d better get aft, 
and mind your dooty,” said a voice. There’s a gale o’ 
Avind in the skipper’s cabin, and the keel wants squaring, 
or the brig’ll be foul o’ one of the poles.” 

This sally was immediately followed by a chorus of what 
is called chaff” ashore, though a mild name for the 
rough banter of sailors, against Avhich poor Pendulum 
manfully held his own for a short time, but at last turned, 
overwhelmed, and shambled aft. 

Next morning Banyard thundered with a handspike on 
the scuttle and sang out, ‘‘Lay aft, all hands. Skipper 
Avants ye.” AA^e pretty well understood that this sum- 
mons referred to the joke played off on the carpenter, and 
feeling innocent, marched ""o the main deck jauntily and 
defiantly. 

The skipper, standing near the skylight, looked at us 
Avith a frown Avhich, I dare say, he thought very intimidat- 
ing, and exclaimed, “ AVhich of you triced Mr. Banyard 
up last night?” 

No answer. 

“The men who didlr had better speak,” said he. “ I’ll 
find out Avho did it, so look to yourselves.” 

Still Ave kept silence, He put the question to us all, 
one after the other, “ Did you do it?” and the invariable 
reply was, “No,” delivered in a ATiriety of keys, and 


96 


LITTLE LOO. 


✓ 

rendered irresistibly comic by the countenances of the 
men. 

Very well/’ said the captain, pale with anger, ^^not 
another ounce of stores shall be served out to you until I 
am told who triced up my second officer.” 

To the surprise of us all, out dashed Little Welchy. 

^^Look here. Captain Franklin/’ he shouted. mean 
to speak you civil, and it’ll be your fault if I don’t. 
There’s me and others of us as knows nothen about this 
here job, and if you’re goin’ to stop our ’lowaiice for bein’ 
innocent, I say it ain’t fair.” 

^^Hold your tongue, and go forward,” exclaimed the 
captain, looking darkly on the little fellow. Do you 
want another cow-hiding?” 

This allusion to a subject inexpressibly distressing to 
Welchy’s feelings put him into a passion. He flourished 
a naked sheath-knife in the air and burst out, By the 
Lord, I’ll promote some one to the command o’ this brig 
■ — I 'will, if you touch me, skipper. Hands ofl! we ain’t 
coolies!” 

The caj)tain, no coward, although a bully, made a rush 
upon the man; the uplifted knife glittered, but in a second 
some. of us threw ourselves between the men, and the knife 
was wrenched out of Welchy’s hand. 

Put that man in irons!” shouted the captain. But 
none of us stirred. He ran. to the skylight and bawled 
for Old Windward, who in a few moments came running 
up oh deck in his drawers and shirt. Help me to put 
that scoundrel in irons!” cried the captain, pointing* to 
W'elchy, and he shouted to Banyard to fetch the irons. 

Before you could have counted ten there was a violent 
struggle: Windward had knocked one man over and was 
himself sprawling with his nose bleeding like a fountain, 
struck down by Beauty Blunt. He regained his legs and 
rushed in among us like a mad bull. But what could two 
do against a whole crew? The unequal combat lasted a 
minute, and the skipper and his mate turned and ran aft. 

The blood of the men was up: the worst passions work- 
ing in undisciplined breasts. Bethinking me more of Miss 
Franklin than of anything else, I exclaimed, Enough 
has been done: tlie mate is well punished, and the skipper 
has got his lessdn. Let us know where to stop.” 


LITTLE LOO. 97 

I’m not going forrard without my breakfast.” said 
Liverpool Sam. 

Just then Banyard emerged with the irons. The crew 
rushed upon him with a howl, the irons were pitched over- 
board, and the old man pummeled upon the deck. Then 
we all remained in the waist in a body, whilst the skipper 
and his mate talked together aft. 

Presently Old Windward came forward and shouted 
out, What is it you want now, that you’re all hanging 
together?” 

We want our breakfast,” was the answer. 

Who run the carpenter up? will ye tell the skipper 
that?” 

We don’t know, an’ if we did we shouldn’t tell,” cried 
back Little Welchy, looking at him piratically. 

I don’t want no words from bellowed the mate, 

foaming with rage: and a pretty picture he made, with the 
cast in his eye and his shirt blood-stained and his short 
flannel drawers. Go forward, all of you. Not a sup nor 
bite do you get until you’ve told the captain who swung 
Mr. Banyard.” 

He was walking away, but we all ran after him, on which 
ke whipped out an iron belaying pin, stopped short, and 
faced about. We were all spokesmen for ourselves now, 
and saluted him with a hurricane of yells. He brandished 
his belaying pin, and shouted that he wouldn’t hear us. 

Who swung the carpenter? tell the skipper that, or no 
breakfast, no dinner, no smell of food if you wait a year!” 

If you mean what you say,” cries Beauty Blunt, step- 
ping forward, then I’ll just give ye our meanin’: either 
we gets wot we signed articles to receive, or we’ll seize the 
brig and carry her back to Lunnon.” 

^^Ha! that’s what you’d be at, is it?” cried the mate; 
and he was beginning to rave at us for a parcel of pirates 
when the skipper called to him, and bidding us go for- 
ward, added that he would send his decision to us pres- 
ently. 

We obeyed this order; only, as we walked toward the 
forecastle,. I heard some of the men swear that if the bread- 
barge wasn’t filled and the tea served out within a quarter 
of an hour, they’d seize the brig and help themselves to 
what they could find in her. There was no question but 
that they were in the temper to carry out their threats. 


98 


LITTLE LOO. 


and heartily glad was I when, a few minutes after we had 
assembled on the forecastle, Banyard came limping for- 
ward to tell us that we might go to breakfast. 

So peaceably terminated a disturbance that was hard 
upon being a mutiny, and in all probability a bloody one^ 
seeing tlie character of the crew and the sort of men they 
had to deal with in the skipper and mate. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE MEST W'ATCH. 

A LIGHT breeze sprang up from the north-east shortly 
after breakfast, and the brig began to move. All sail was 
crowded on her, lower, top-mast, and top-gallant studding- 
sails set, and the most made of the small slant of wind. 
Tiie men showed no disposition to sulk, and the captain, 
for . that dny at least, was a little more moderate in his 
way of directing us. However, for twenty-four hours Old 
Windward carried about with him a reminder of the riot 
in the shape of a puffed eye, and keen was the satisfaction 
with which the men observed it, and heai’ty their congrat- 
ulations to Beauty Blunt on the weight of his fist. 

Miss Franklin only showed herself on deck for a short 
time that day. I dare say her brother had frightened her 
with an account of the behavior of the crew. 

At eight bells we sighted a vessel hull down on the star- 
board beam. We hoisted the ensign and she showed her 
colors, which, I understood, were Danish. She was, how- 
ever, too far off, to speak; but so light was the wind that 
we had her topsails in view all the afternoon, and it was 
not until the close of the second dog-watch that her royals 
sank below the rim of the sea directly astern. 

The sun was scorchingly hot, and the decks so burning 
that it was scarcely possible to walk about with naked feet. 
The pitch' in the seams of the planks was as soft as wax, 
and if you grasped a shroud or backstay, your hands came 
away from it black with the tar. One feels the want of 
steam in these latitudes. Xothing can be imagined more 
tiresome than the stretch of sea, white with the glaring sun- 
shine, heaving placidly under a dome of copper sky, not 
a break upon the horizon, and only here and there the 


LITTLE LOO. 


99 


•sbaclow of a breeze tliat dies in its efforts to reach tlie 
vessel. 

They kept the cabin cool by an awning and by sluicing 
the decks with water; but the forecastle was more than a 
Hindoo could have stood. In consequence, ^’we almost 
lived on deck, lying in the shadow of tlie foresail or tlie 
long-boat, or close against the bulwarks, and taking our 
meals in this way. 

I had noticed for the last three or four days that 
Deacon had been more engrossedly employed upon his 
eternal diagram than I had ever before observed; also 
I had caught him looking at me with a meditative 
expression in his eyes, though he would avert his gaze^ 
immediately on being detected. I had not hitherto paid 
close attention to what I considered an unintelligible 
caprice of his; but when I found him, as now, incessantly 
tracing his diagram on paper and poring over it, I began 
to wonder seriously what he was at, and to recall the out- 
line and conjecture its meaning. That it was a bit of 
geography I was disposed, with Liverjiool Sam, to believe; 
but whether he was designing a new Utopia, or sketching 
the outline of some unknown coast, or elaborating some 
new theory with respect to the physical structure of a 
coral island, I could not guess. My curiosity, however, 
was repressed by his manifest disinclination to take me or 
any of the rest of us into his confidence. I looked upon 
.him, as did the others, as a queer sort of man, though I 
was willing sometimes to suspect that in the heart of all 
this study, lip-whispering, and odd reading, was a motive 
which might make me see him in a new light could I 
fathom it. 

On the evening following that wliereon Pendulum Ban- 
yard had been piratically run-aloft, I found myself on my 
back on the forecastle, my head on a coil of rope, survey, 
ing the stately height of white sail that towered above, 
wind enough in each square of canvas to keep it quiet, and 
the royals pale as the moon in a morning sky, making 
glimmering clouds under -the rich, full-lighted tropical 
stars. 

The silence of the sails was a blessed reprieve; pretty 
well all day the canvas had been slapping the masts, and 
we were getting tired of this side the Line. A delightful 
draught blew upon me from out of the foot of the foresail. 


100 


LITTLE LOO. 


and I lay, luxurious as a monarch, enriching the wind 
with white puffs of tobacco smoke, and thinking — I could 
not help it: the beauty of the night, the hush upon the 
brig, and the high trembling stars brought her into my 
mind — of Louisa Franklin. When the skipper bullied 
the men, did he remember that he had his sister on board? 
That morning bloodshed and crime had been nearly" pro- 
evoked; and if the crew turned upon the people aft, how 
would it fare with the girl? This had come into my head 
when I saw the naked knife in Little Welchy’s hand, and 
the mutinous fire in the eyes of the men around; it came 
into my head again now. 

A man came out of the forecastle and stood looking 
around him. Others lay about as well as myself, men out 
of both watches, and some two or three talked in low 
tones with the cook at the door of the deck-house. The 
skylight aft was wide open, with a windsail down it; there 
was just enough swell to keep the figure of the man at the 
wheel rising and falling to the length of his body against 
the stars; one star held true on his port hand — a token 
that the brig had good steerage way on her, and was sail- 
ing a steady course. 

The fellow looking around him from the scuttle stepped 
up to m^. 

Asleep, mate?^^ 

^‘No; Fm studying astronomy in the attitude recom- 
mended by the Dutchman.’’ 

Deacon, for it was he, squatted himself on the deck 
close against my head, with his legs under him like a tailor. 

^^It’s hot enough for spontaneous combustion in the 
forecastle,” said he, lighting a jiipe. There are some 
cartridges, among the cargo, they tell me, and I shouldn’t 
be surprised to hear them popping away like a lot of fiends 
opening soda-water bottles. Talking of cartridges — 
there’s a connection between the subjects too — I’m cursed 
if tliere won’t be a mutiny aboard if the skipper and mate 
don’t mend their manners. Beauty let fall some words 
this afternoon which brought such queer looks into the faces 
of Welchy and Suds and Old Sam and others — and may 
be into mine, but I won’t swear, for there’s no looking- 
glass to see into — that would make me feel anything but 
comfortable if I was skipper here. Who’s going to stand 
that swab Sloe? Did the* Almighty make us in His image 


LITTLE LOO. 


101 


to submit to such a man-^s foul-mouthed insults and curs- 
ing, with our heads dropped, as if we should say, ' Fire 
away, my angel; we were only sent into the world for 
lovely gentlemen like you to kick and slangT” 

I hope there’ll be no mutiny whilst Fm aboard,” said 
L No good ever comes of mutineering. Quite true is 
the saying that if a . sailor resists liis commander he resists 
the laW, and piracy or submission is his only alternative. 
If rights are denied, let us insist upon having tliem, and 
get them if we can; but when it comes to flourishing 
knives and lookingblood and murder, Fm for walking off. 
You can’t oblige men like the skipper and Old Windward 
more than by putting yourself in the wrong box.” 

You’re quite right; no bloodshed, say 1. But has 
any mortal man the right to try human patience too far? 
Look at the stuff that the crew of a vessel like this is niade 
of; a body of ignorant, undisciplined men, without a' 
fragment of interests ashore to keep them straight, care- 
less of to-morrow, as all sailors are, requiring a firm but a 
kind hand — the sort of treatment that makes a dog lick 
your boots. Careless of to-morrow, I say^ they are; and 
\liat is the quality in them whicli skippers should fear,, 
for such men act without reflection, turn with a rush, and 
never think until the deed is done, and when they are ask- 
ing each other. What next, mates?” 

‘‘Dashed if I don’t think you’re a schoolmaster in dis- 
guise. Where did you learn to talk so neatly?” 

“ Can’t a decent headpiece go along with dirty hands 
and tarry breeches? I’ve met cleverer men than ever I 
am in the forecastle, God bless you! chaps with warm 
poetical imaginations, good grammar to stow their 
thoughts in, and eifough philosophy to fit ’em for a chair of 
morals at a Scotch university.” 

Here he came to a dead lugubrious pause. 

“ Can you keep a secret?” 

“What now?” 

“ Fm in earnest.” 

“Lord!” I shouted; “your voice sounded like a Malay 
parrot’s. What’s your secret?” 

He made no answer for some moments, and then whis- 
pered with extraordinary earnestness, — 

“ If I tell you the secret of my life, swear on your word 
as a messmate that you’ll nevei' repeat it.” 


102 


LITTLE LOO. 


I raised my head out of the coil of rope to have a look at 
him. He leaned toward^ me, and his eyes shone like a 
cat’s, taking no luster from the starlight without, but 
glowing from some illumination within. , 

If it’s murder, my beauty,” said I, keep your ghosts 
vto yourself. I want to hear nothing horrible.” 

^‘'Murder! why, confound it, that’s a nice notion to 
take against a man who asks leave to tell you something! 
Murder! you want thumping for saying it.” He pulled 
back his head and sucked hotly at his pipe. 

^^How do I know what you’ve been?” said I; what 
.'you’ve done? — whether your mincT isn’t like Bluebeard’s 
^attic — in\] oitriinlcs. Here are you talking about moral 
philosophy and chairs at Scotch universities, and the 
deuce knows what else; learned in navigation — ” 

‘'vThat isn’t true.” 

111 navigation terms, then, a French scholar — a wise 
man in a dirty shirt. Haven’t you got a history ? of course 
you have. Is it a bad one? Then I don’t want to hear 
it. IS’one of your beach-combing gammon — veracious 
yarns dished up out of the lying history of Black Dan the 
smuggler, and Blue Jim the bold buccaneer. If you’ve 
got an honest ^tory to tell. I’ll listen to it; if it’s a,murder- 
some. thing, bestow it on Suds — his mouth ivas made to 
hold wide open, and he told us the other day that his 
favorite dish was black pudden.” 

Talk of mouths!” said Deacon sepulch rally; I never 
heard such a twister as yours. Don’t think I’m in a hurry 
to tell you my story. Why, it’s occupied me all the weeks 
since we left Bayport to make up 1113" mind to take you 
into my confidence. Do you ask me why I choose you? 
—then it’s for two reasons; 3^011 saved my life, and second- 
ly, you’re an educated man, and our united heads will 
bring it about.” 

Bring what about?” 

You shall hear.” 

should like to look at your face by lamplight before 
you begin. I can’t see you. Are you grinning?” 

swear I never was more in earnest!” he cried in a 
voice of tragic intensity. are making a joke of it; 

but let me tell you that m-y resolution to bring you into 
1113^ secret has cost' me a heavy struggle.” 


LITTLE LOO. 


103 


^^Well, fire away. I’ll respect whatever you may tell 
me, mate.” 

^^Oome with me first into the fo’c’sle,” said he; we’ll 
return presently.” 

He got up and went to the scuttle. Banter him as I 
might, I could not doubt his seriousness. My curiosity 
revived, and stepping over the bodies of the men, I fol- 
lowed Deacon into the forecastle. 

Liverpool Sam sprawled on a chest, sound asleep, his 
sooty pipe in his^iand and his mouth open; Snoring Jim- 
my, with one thin leg dangling out, sputtered through his 
nose in an upper bunk. The rest of the crew were on 
deck. Tlie gentle movement of the brig made the 
lamp swing slowly, and the timbers now and again 
creaked. I kept under the scuttle to get the air — after 
the sweet draughts from the foresail, this atmosphere tin- 
gled upon my cheeks; and that Sam and Jimmy could 
sleep in it was only accounted, for by understanding that 
pickled sailors can exist everywhere, and endure all 
things. 

Deacon went to his chest and rummaged. After turn- 
ing about his clothes, he fished up a queer old pock- 
et-book, or rather an old leather case tied with a rope 
yarn. He brought the thing to the lamp to loose the 
knot, and his hands shook in a way surprising to see. In 
fact, what with his tremor and his yellow face, and eyes 
blinking near the fiame, and the queer look which his 
black, lank hair gave him, my mind was fully prepared 
to receive some sanguinary disclosure, and I looked ear- 
nestly at the leather case, expecting to see him produce, 
perhaps a blood-stained handkerchief, or a clot-rusty 
jack-knife — I don’t know what — something he could 
flourish under my nose whilst he rolled his eyeballs and 
whispered hoarsely, This did the deed!” or Behold 
the proof of the bloody affair!” 

However, what he took from the case was a single sheet 
of newspaper tied up with a bit of faded green or blue rib- 
bon; he slipped this off, opened the paper, and putting 
his finger upon a passage, desired me, in a whisper, to 
draw near the light and read. 

What the deuce are you shaking about?” I said." 

'•Read!” he muttered, with a queer flashing in his 
eyes. 


104 


LITTLE LOO. 


The newspaper was a copy of the London Times, dated- 
in February, 1840. It was yellow and greasy with age 
and fumbling. I cannot express how amazingly that 
sheet of newspaper suggested the countless times it had 
been opened and folded. 

The passage he pointed out was down in the corner, 
and was headed : 

Royal Oak,—'R\\ hope of this ship’s safety is 
abandoned; she is now overdue eleven mc^ths. This fine 
vessel, owned by Messrs. Spiers, of Liverpool, and built 
at Sunderland in 1838, left Sydney on the 1st of Decem- 
ber, wdth a cargo of wool. She was bringing besides, 
twenty thousand sovereigns, and bar-gold to the value of 
forty thousand pounds. The number of souls on board 
were sixty, of which ten were first-class and nineteen 
steerage passengers. She was signaled by the ISTew Zea- 
land bark EmUy, four days out, in lat. 40® 15', long. 
160® 3', and has not since been heard of.” 

^^Have you read it?” whispered Deacon. 

I nodded and handed him the paper, which he care- 
fully restored to the depths of his chest. 

He then scrambled through the scuttle, and I followed 
him, much impressed by his mysterious behavior, and 
wondering what on earth he was going to tell me. 


CHAPTER XX. 

D E A 0 0 N’ S S E C E E T . 

I WEiiT back to my place on the forecastle. There was 
a little more wind, the sails fuller, a sound of gushing 
waters under the bows, with a sensible slanting of the 
pillar of pale ^ canvas. This was proper sailing: a few 
days of this, and the south-east trades wmiild be whistling 
through the rigging. 

^‘^Did you read the name of the ship.^” asked Deacon. 

The Royal OaTc.’^ 

^^1 was boatswain’s mate aboard her.” 

^^You!” 

Yes, me. Why not? I was twenty-four years old.” 

^^The newspaper sa 3 ^s that she was never heard of after 


LITTLE LOO. 105 

being signaled by the New Zealand barque. You were 
saved, then^ and never reported to the owners?” 

‘^That’s my secret/’ said he solemnly. 

A shipwreck! is that all?” cried 1, disappointed; for 
this surely was the mountain and the mouse. 

Who says that’s all? I say it’s a shipwreck and some- 
thing besides.” 

He held up his forefinger, and began his narrative in 
that imposing attitude. I listened, like the wedding 
guest in the poem. 

I was bo’sun’s mate aboard of her. She was a ship of 
1500 tons registered tonnage, frigate built, painted ports, 
poop and t’gallant fock’sle, and the handiest vessel to steer 
that ever I met. She’d look right up into the wind, masts 
straight as a duchess in a queen’s ball-room. How she 
came to grief, God alone knows. Colliers built eighty 
years ago outlived her, and are carrying their coals now. 
But the sea is a ship’s providence — ” 

Very fine,” said I, but it’s no story.” 

We left Sydney on the 1st of December, and stood 
from the Heads under all plain sail, and I remember look- 
ing astern at that hollow in the cliff to the left of the 
Heads, thinking how the bit of flat rock there would 
wreck a ship that should mistake the light they had' stuck 
over it to warn vessels away. We carried the breeze till 
sunset, and then it failed us and drew ahead, and we beat 
against alight wind; and a few days after sailing we ex- 
changed signals with a little barque coming up from New 
Zealand. 

‘‘ It was known to all hands^.that there was a deal of 
money on board — money and gold stowed away somewhere 
aft — but how much none of us got to hear; but reports 
and talk exaggerated the amount, and you’ll guess we 
thought it a lump, when it was said that if the money and 
gold was divided equally among passengers and officers 
and crew, each person would have 4000/.! So we made 
the value of that bit of freight 240,000/. But, as you 
have seen by the newspaper, we were a long chalk out of 
our reckoning. 

^‘^ All went well with us until we had come to some- 
where about 120® of west longitude; but what our latitude 
Avas I don’t know. We\Yei’e middling high, I think. The 
course-giv^^^ me one day wlien T was at tl\e ^';!ioel Avas 


106 


LITTLE LOO. 


S.W.^but then we were close-hauled, and, the wind prom- 
ising pretty steady, the second mate might have thought 
it better to fix a heading than to tell me to keep her full 
and bye.’^ 

^‘That’s rather queer, isn’t it?” said L 

So it may be. But every man has his own way. Men 
learn rules to pass an examination, but fall back on their 
own metho*ds when the charge of a ship comes into their 
hands.” 

There’s something in that.” 

little before two o’clock one morning the wind 
veered round to the south’ard, and came on to blow mod- 
erate strong, but so cold that it seemed to stick fangs of ice 
in your cheeks. We braced the yards to it, but it fresh- 
ened toward the morning watch, and at day-break we 
were laying our port channels under water with royals and 
mizzen-topgallant sail stowed. 

The skipper not liking the look of the weather sent 
down royal yards — a queerer sky I never saw; just like 
looking at blue through a sheet of ice; bit by bit the wind 
freshened, and bit by bit we reduced canvas, until at two 
o’clock in the afternoon we were lying- to under a close- 
reefed mnintopsail, a hurricane blowing from the south- 
’ard, and a regular Cape Horn sea running. Is there 
anything to beat a Pacific sea? they say that the highest 
waves aren’t more than thirty feet high; but if' the waves 
in that gale weren’t as high as the mizzentop you shall 
\call me a liar. When the ship rolled to windward in the 
hollows, there was just a Avail of green waters on both 
hands, looking as tall as DoA^er cliffs — enough to turn 
your hair gray; and I thought the ship Avould burst to 
pieces under the tremendous hammering from the seas, 
and the pressure of the jammed- up Avool-bales in the 
. hold. 

The gale bleAV a whole week, sending us surging due 
north, or rather to the west’ards of north. The skipper 
tried to put on a bold face, but though he was a pretty 
good sailor, he had not much bottom; and you could see 
by the color of his skin that his blood was gone wrong. 
They had special prayers in the cuddy, and a poor look- 
out it Avas for the steerage passengers; battened down in* 
the ’tween decks in darkness, the galley fire out, and no 
cooking to be got. 


LITTLE LOO. 


107 


When the gale fell, we found ourselves some hundreds 
of miles to the nor’rard of* our course, not by dead-reckon- , 
ing, for what will the log show you when you’re making 
nothing but lee-way? The skipper got observations at 
the end of the week, and made the latitude something 
like 46^ or 47^. A tremendous drive, wasn’t it? but the 
send of those seas, traveling at forty miles an hour, 
will be carrying you across the world, while you’re fancy- 
ing that the vessel’s reaching with no more than four or 
live points leeway.” 

Come to your story,” said I. ‘‘It’ll be eight bells 
before you get me out of this storm.” 

“I want to show you how it all came about. You’ll be 
staring at me presently, and if I skip small particulars, 
you’ll say I’ve invented the yarn. No sooner did we think 
that the gale was done, and were thanking God for the 
privilege of being able to dry ourselves, when up it sprang 
again, this time more from the westward; and for nine 
whole days it roared fit to blow us out of the sea. The 
Royal Oah was a good ship, but if she had been an island 
something must have happened to her from such weather. 

“On the seventh day of the second gale, the carpenter 
reported five inches of water in the hold. We got the 
pumps to suck, but next day we could only keep the wa- 
ter level; the day after, it gained upon us an inch every 
two hours. Then the gale broke, but what with all tins 
wind and the pumping, the crew were used up. The first 
thing that happened was, we refused to pump; we said 
that we couldn’t keep the ship afloat, and meant to take 
to the boats. The captain lost his wits, and ran about 
like a madman; then there was a panic; a crowd of us 
rushed to the quarter-boats, and we fought like wild beasts. 
Some one struck me over the forehead, the Lord knows 
what with, but down I dropped insensible. 

“It was dark when I came to. Where I was I couldn’t 
remember for some minutes, but feeling the water coming 
down upon me, just as if I was lying under a hose, I got 
up and looked around. It was raining fit to drown a 
whale, and a strong wind blowing, I can’t tell you from 
what quarter, the main-topsail was aback, and the ship 
driving stern on. Faint as I was, the fear that overcanie 
me when I thought I was alone on the sinking ship put^a 
pretty strong voice into my throat, and I bawled out, — 


108 


LITTLE LOO. 


Vis there anybody left?’ 

^ Yes, one man,’ says a voice, and close up against the 
poop ladder was a figure. 

^ Who are you?' said L 

^ Tommy Leech,’ he answers, on which I dragged 
myself up to him, feeling strangely comforted. 

The thought of perishing alone in that ship would 
^'jlave driven me raving mad; but the trouble seemed small 
enough when I found that I shouldn’t go down alone.” 

-Here he paused and fell into a reverie. 

^^Tail on, Deacon,” said I;. come to your story.” 

Well,” he continued, raising his head; it turned 
out that all hands had left the ship in the quarter-boats 
and pinnace. One quarter-boat, with some women in her, 
capsized alongside, and Tommy was in her. He, of them 
all, was the only one that managed to save himself. He 
^vas thrown by a sea into the main chains, sind scrambled 
on board; the other boats drifted away like smoke, and 
disappeared. 

What was to be done? the ship was rolling heavily, 
showing the weight of water in her;, the only boat left was 
the long boat, 'made as good as a fixture by the spars 
stowed atop of it. Should we turn to and build a raft? 
We were both too weak to do that. However, we got 
something to eat and drink to put life into us, and let go 
" the lee mainbraces and squared the yards, and got the 
ship before the wind, and lashed the helm amidships. 
We trusted to drive among some of the Pacific islands — 
we didn’t know where we were; but we knew it would be 
better to head north than south, and so we let the ship 
go. 

When this was done, I missed Tommy. I was worn 
out and fell down, and went to sleep like a baby. When 
I awoke it was daylight; I had slept right through the 
night; a fresh wind was blowing, and a lumping sea on, 
and the ship was all aback again, but no deeper in the 
water. This discovery made me frantic with joy.’ I 
rushed about the decks seeking Tommy, and found bim in 
the cuddy lying among a litter of bottles. He was insen- 
sible with the drink, and all my hauling him about put 
no more life into him than had he been dead. I went on 
de^k again and put the wheel hard over, and the ship, 
having stern way on her, rounded; the topsail filled, and 


LITTLE LOO. 109 

away she went sousing over the running seas. Are you 
listening?’’ 

Yes, yes. Go on,” 

What had stopped the leak I don’t know. The weight 
of water in her may have calked the hole with sodden 
wool. For two days we drove before the wind. We 
sighted no ships, and saw no land. But hope was strong 
in us both, for the ship lived stoutly, and any hour might 
bring about our rescue. We stood watch turn and 
about. Tommy didn’t get drunk again. He said Ife 
thought the ship would founder that night when he took 
the liquor from the pantry, and made himself insensible 
that he mightn’t suffer when the ship went down. That 
was his excuse, and no blame to him. People ashore take 
chloroform to meet pain, and a man has a right lo kill his 
feelings before he drowns, if he has time, for it’s a cold, 
strangling, ugly death, is drowning; you can’t say your 
prayers with the salt water burning in your throat.” 

He paused to see if I had anything to say to this; but 
I was impatient to hear his secret. An argument would 
have been tiresome, besides, he was quite clever enougl! to 
anticipate all that could be said, against this logic of 
brutes. 

On the evening of the fourth day the wind went down 
and left a mild breeze. The ship appeared scarcely to 
move to it. As the sun sank the horizon stood out clear: 
I said to Tommy, ‘ Is that a fog on the port bow?’ Well, 
he thought it was a cloud. But hoping it might be some- 
thing else, I took the telescope and went aloft and saw 
land. It was plain enough, and I gave a shout and came 
down hand over fist. I ran aft and took its bearings be- 
fore it fell dark, and stood to the wheel heading for it. I 
steered for three hours, and then Tommy steered; but I 
couldn’t rest, though I laid down on the stern gratings, 
for fear that Tommy should head the ship away from the 
land. 

When the morning broke the land lay close ahead, 
not two miles off. I consulterl with my mate as to how we 
should act. The bower anchors were stowed; we couldn’t 
hope that the kedge would hold her, even if we could 
have made shift to get it out of the fore-chains. So we 
resolved to run the ship ashore on the beach that lay 
gleaming like pearl. 


110 


LITTLE LOO. 


Well, good kick favored iis, for the breeze asterrf 
freshened with the sun, and to give us more headw^ 
Tommy loosed the foresail, and then stood' forward look- 
ing into the water (which was clear as crystal) to pilot/kie 
clear of rocks. But the beach shelved into good sound- 
ings- the ship, gathering fresh way, and helped by the 
long tollers, took the ground, burying her cutwater into 
the sand, and there stood — ’’ 

Who the devil’s that growlin’ away like a dog in a. 
kennel?” here said one of the men who lay at a short 
distance from us, raising himself* on his elbow. Never 
in ;all my life heerd suah murmurin’! one’d think as 
nightmares was growin’ cheap. Is that you. Sniggers?” 

*^A11 right — all right!” answered Deacon: he drew a 
little closer to me, and subduing his voice proceeded:. 

We had all day before us to think over what we should 
do. First we made a good breakfast, and fhen we searched 
about for weapons, and found a pair of revolvers in the 
skipper’s cabin. I then climbed on to the main- topgal- 
lant yard, and striding the yard with my back to. the mast, 
I took a long look through the glass all around. There 
was a middling high hill covered with bushes and trees at 
the after end of the island, but between that and where 
. the ship lay was flat, with plenty of green stuff upon it, 
and a small river — well, it was an arm of the sea shaped 
like a river, and it shone like steel between the trees. 
The whole island wasn’t above a mile broad and three 
long, and from the masthead I could see the ocean all be- 
yond. 

I came down and told Tommy that the place was a 
desert, and that there was no other land visible, and from 
the top-gallant yard I ought to be able to see land thirty 
mile off. 

We then agreed to turn to and get all the provisions 
and water we could take ashore, in case the ship went to 
pieces; likewise we resolved to get the long boat out, and 
all that was proper to furnish her. Tommy spoke to me 
about tire gold; I told him to make no mistake, I hadn’t 
forgotten that: but that we should be fools to w^aste pre- 
cious time in landing what wouldn’t keep body and soul 
"together if the ship broke up. First let us collect what 
was necessary for our preservation, then buckle to the 


LITTLE LOO. 


Ill 


longboat^ in which we might sail away and make inhabited 
land or be picked up: and when this work was done, then 
we could take tlie gold out of the ship. 

Well, we spent all that day in landing stores;' and 
next day we rigged up tackles with jiggers upon the falls, 
and took the ends to the capstan, and hove the spars cleai- 
of the long boat, and slung the boat into the water. We 
rowed her round to what I call the river, and moored her 
securely, and then returned to the ship and went on land- 
ing everything we could think of that might be necessary 
for the preservation of our lives. This cost us a week of 
hard work, starting at daybreak, and never knocking off 
until it was dark; but the climate was beautiful; I could 
do five times as much work there as I could anywhere 
else, and besides, we were working for our lives. All this 
while the weather remained fine, with light winds and 
sometimes dead calms. 

‘• We found the gold stowed away in cases thick as a 
house, lined with sheet iron and clamped with iron bars. 
There were two of them.. The hrst box we prized open (it 
took us a whole morning to do it) contained the sovereigns 
in canvas bags, each bag holding a thousand, so it was an 
easy job to lug the bags on to the forecastle and pitch 
them on to the beach. There were just twenty of these 
bags. In the other box was the bar gold, packed like 
bars of soap, one atop of the other: they looked like cop- 
per, dull, and dingy, but it was the weight of them that 
told the story. One by one we pitched them on to the 
beach, until they all lay in a heap on the sand, and the 
chest was empty. 

“]^ow what was to be done with this money? Well, I 
had made up my mind before ever I had seen th| cases 
that contained it. I told Tommy we must bury it, and 
that if Ave managed to come off with our lives, we must 
hold together, shipping always in the same vessel, and 
waiting our chance to fetch the money away and divide it. 
I brought a Bible out of the skipper’s cabin, and we each 
swore that we’d keep the secret of this money; that we’d 
stick together, and never play false to each other; and 
that if it should come to our having to run ofi with some 
small vessel, we’d do it, so as to bring the money to Engv 
land under cover of any freight we could pick up. Next 
corning we turned ^t(» and chose a place for burying the 


Il2 LITTLE LOO. 

gold. We chose the head of the river, which was 
in the middle of the island, and we dug a big hole agai^t 
a cocoa-nut tree, the biggest thereabouts, which I r(^k- 
oned would be standing there a hundred years hence/ w^e 
knocked olf lumps of coral, and collected bits of ston/and 
rock, and bricked the hole inside as well as we coitld, to 
prevent the gold from settling, should there come A spell 
of wet, and stowed the bars and the bags on t/p, and 
filled up the hole, keeping the tree as our post. ' 

Well, a few days after we had got the gold out of the 
ship a strong wind blew right on shore; it raised a heavy 
sea, and sc ground the vessel upon the beach that she 
went to pieces. The bales of wool lay all along the shore, 
and made a regular breakwater; but most of the stores we 
had left aboard of her were damaged or carried away to 
sea. There was nothing to eat but cocoa-nuts on the 
island, and ’we determined to put out to sea before all our 
j)ro visions should begone; so we loaded the boat, fitted her 
ivith a mast and sail, and got under way, steering due 
]S[.E. by the compass we had. This course would bring 
us to the South American coast, well to the norrard of 
Patagonia. We lost sight of the island by the evening, 
and were blown north by a fresh gale of wind which raised 
a sea that would have swamped us out of hand had I had 
the steering of the boat. But Tommy was a I>eal man, 
used to the luggers, and kept the boat to it properly. 

Well,” he exclaimed, taking a long breath, and pass- 
ing the back of his hand over his forehead, the secret’s 
out, and there’s no use in my keeping you listening to what 
befell ns in the boat. We knocked about a whole fort- 
night, never seeing such a thing as a sail; the water ran 
low, and Tommy fell ill. He lay in tlie bottom of the 
boat moaning all through one night; God knows what ailed 
him, but next morning he died. I kept his body for 
the companionship of it until it grew so ugly that it gave 
me the horrors, and then I dropped it overboard. T drifted 
about anyhow, growing weaker and weaker, until I could 
scarcely make shift to crawl to the breakers. T believed I 
was dying, and laydown trying to meet death like a man. 
After this I remember notiiing until I awoke and found 
myself aboard a whaler bound to Boston.” 

Here he came to a stop. His eyes glowed as they fixed 
themselves on mine, and he bent sc*'far forward to sce into 



LITTLE LOO. 113 

niy face;, that by the misty starlight I could remark the 
enthusiasm and eagerness that lighted up his. 

It’s a curious story/’ said I, turning it over^ and find-' 
ing it likely enough. The sketch, then, you are always 
drawing, is the island?’’ 

The north end of it. We beached the ship on the 
western side, and rowed the long-boat round to the east 
to fetch, the gully wdiere we moored her.” 

What object have you in constantly making the same 
sketch ?” 

Well, it’s one way of thinking — one way of lessening 
the chance of my forgetting it, should I get a fever or 
meet with any accident to injure my memory. I look at 
it in this way; suppose my memory should go; 3"et my 
hand would fall to work mechanically at the sketch, and 
it would all come back to me.” 

^^Do you believe the gold is there now^?” 

^^Hush!” he whispered, looking hastily round him.' 

Of course it is. There were only two that ev^r had the 
secret, and Tommy died, I told you.” 

What account did you give of yourself in the whaler?” 

When I came to and began to think, I was afraid 
they might have got to find out by the boat, or in some 
Avay that I had overlooked, the name of the ship I had 
been wrecked in, and this I didn’t want living man to 
know. So to learn how much they had discovered, I pre- 
tended to have lost my memory, and said I couldn’t re- 
collect the name of the ship. Now they didn’t tell me, 
and so of course I knew that nothing about me or the 
boat had furnished them with a clew. They told me they 
had come across the boat in latitude 35°, longitude 92°, 
and that the boat was half-full of water. Ashore they 
reported that my memory was gone. I soon got a ship 
and left Boston.” 

Whereabouts is this island ?” 

He answered in a low tone full of mystery, — 

I have settled it to within the compass of the horizon 
by dead reckoning. Nearer, I don’t suppose, my calcula- 
tions have made it; but I would lay half the money that’s 
there that it would heave in sight somewhere to port or 
' starboard from the foretopsail-yard when the ship reached 
the place I believe it to be in. Do you understand?” 

‘‘I suppose you mean that if you’re wrong in your 


114 


LITTLE LOO. 


.reckonin,^s you’re not above a dozen miles out. Where 
do you make it, then.^” 

Three degrees west of Teapy Island, true on th 
parallel of 30^ south.” 7 

Where the deuce is Teapy Island? The name ha/ a 
twang of the China seas about it.” / 

No, no, I’m right. Teapy is in the South So^s. ^Any 
south seaman would tell you where it is. You’ll find 
it on the chart.” 

Is your island on the chart?” 

No.” 

I was silent, and I dare say he thought th>at the non- 
existence of his island on the chart made me incredulous 
of the whole story. 

There must always be a first discoverer,” he exclaimed 
eagerly. ‘WYhat a vast stretch of sea is the Pacific! will 
anybody tell me that every vestige of land in it is known 
and charted?” 

I was not thinking of that. Why didn’t you report 
to the owners when you got home? You might have sold 
your secret for a good price; besides, I should say you had 
a substantial salvage claim.” 

“ Wliy,” he cried excitedly;, should I surrender the 
whole for a part, when the whole was mine?” 

^^But what’s the use of money stuck in a pit in the 
middle of an island in the Pacific ocean? Perhaps the 
cannibals have unearthed it by this time, and are wearing 
your gold in their noses.” 

No, no! it is there. It wilV be there a thousand years 
hence if I don’t fetch it away.” 

How do you propose to recover it?” 

If I was not a very poor man I should know fast 
enough. I should hire a small ci'aft. But I never could 
get the money — get enough to save, I mean — to pay for 
the hire.” 

You told 'us the other day that you made four hundred 
nounds by an action against some shipowners about a 
AVheei.” 

I was robbed of the greater part of it by a woman in 
a lodging-house in Liverpool. If I had kept it, do you 
think I should be talking to you here, in this twopenny 
brig — an able seaman? Not L I got that money .two 
voyages before I shipped in the Royal Oah, I never 


LITTLE LOO. 


115 


guessed I should want it. What is money in a sailor’s 
pocket ashore?” 

‘‘But what makes you open your heart to ^ How 
can I help you? Of the two^ I dare say I am the poorer 
man. I’d make a thundering: long board out of my course, 
you may be sure, to get a fortune: but here’s an under- 
taking that wants finances to carry out.” 

He shook his head and leaned back, gazing first at the 
silent sails and then around him. 

“ Here’s the vessel,” he whispered, “ to carry the money 
home.” 

“ Are you thinking of taking the skipper into your con- 
fidence?” 

He! I’m thinking of getting you to take command of 
the brig, and navigate her to my El Dorado.” 

I burst into a laugh, but soon grew grave, again, for the 
fellow was as serious as a judge pronouncing sentence of 
death. 

“Do you mean,” I exclaimed in a low voice, for we 
were now using words which no man in his senses would 
wish overheard, “that you and I should seize the brig?’^ 

“Yes.” 

“ By the holy poker, as Pat says, you’re a cool hand. 
What do you mean to do with the officers and crew?” 

“The crew would come over at a word. Offer each 
man /five hundred pounds.” 

“And the skipper and mate?” 

“Send them adrift.” 

“ Which of us two is mad, I wonder?” said I, looking 
at him hard. 

He laughed, and answered, — 

“There’s plenty of time to think over it. We’ve got 
the whole of the South Atlantic before us yet.” 

“ Lay aft, and man the port braces!” shouted Old Wind- 
ward. 

We jumped up and tumbled aft, and in a few moments 
the deck was echoing to the sound of our voices and the 
squealing of block-sheaves. 


116 


LITTLE LOO. 


CHAPTER XXL 

A RISE. 

Xext day brought a change of fortune to me, and for 
awhile drove Deacon and his island out of my head. 

We were on deck, washing down, the handle of the head 
pump flogging to the arm of an apprentice, and Welchy 
swirling buckets full of water about our feet. We had 
picked up a warm, fresh breeze right aft, and the brig 
was running quietly before it over a calm sea, with stud- 
ding sails swelling on both sides of her, fore and aft can- 
vas in, and mainsail hauled up. ^ ' 

Old \¥ind Ward watched our operations from the sky- 
light. Presently he bent down his head, answered some 
one within, and called me up to him. 

Here,” said he, the captain wants you in his cabin. 
Pull your breeches over your legs, and cock on your boots 
and bear a hand.” 

Secretly disturbed by this unexpected summons, and 
turning my past behavior over in my mind to see what I 
had done to merit a railing and logging, I tumbled into 
the forecastle, put myself square, and went aft. 

Old 'Windward watched me witlrhis malevolent eye. It 
was an eye not calculated to inspire self-confidence in the 
man on whom it squinted, and I went down the companion 
ladder with my nerves all askew. I walked to the skip- 
per’s cabin and knocked on the door. 

"'Come in,” said he, and in I went. I found him at a 
table, writing; he put down his pen, and turning smartly 
upon me exclaimed, — 

Are you fit to serve as second mate?” 

I think I am, sir.” 

''You tliinh youlire; but I want to know.” 

" Yes, certainly. I hold no certificate; but I can do 
the work.” . , 

"Why didn’t you say so at first!” he cried pettishly. 
" I hate men to shamble when I ask a plain yes or no. 
Banvard’s a fool — I suppose you know that?” 

"Pm not in his watch, and don’t know,” I replied. 

"The men take liberties with him; and the man who 



/ 


LITTLE LOO. 


Ill 


allows himself to be joked upon and laughed at by a crew 
is not my sort. The imbecile shall breed no mutinies 
aboard my vessel for the want of being able to use his fist;.^ 
jOan you take sights?’^ 

Yes, sir.’^ 

Haje you a sextant?” 

I replied that I had, which was true enough, though I 
should not have brought it with me had I had a home to 
leave it at. 

What wages did you ship at?” he inquired, laying his 
hand on the log-book. 

Three pounds ten shillings a month.” 

Well, Banyard gets four, and you shall have four. I 
expect you’ll make yourself look decent when you come 
aft. and no napping, no jawing with your mates. If I 
catch you at that I shall break you again right off.” 

Tiie manner was even more offensive than the matter. 
I bit my lip to keep down my temper, but the blood was 
in my face, and I looked away, that he might not see the 
rage and contempt in my eyes, for pride is of no earthly 
use on board ship, and anger serves a man nowhere; a 
man at sea must stand to things as he finds them, and I 
should have been a fool to forfeit a stroke of luck by re- 
senting tlie way in which it came. 

Having scribbled down a memorandum in the log- 
book, he told me to go forward and send Banyard to him. 

Where’s my bunk to be, sir?” I asked. 

Why, in the deck-house. Banyard takes your place, 
I tell you.” 

The cook is no company tor the second mate of a 
vessel like this, sir,” I ventured to say. He looked up 
with a frown, but I proceeded nevertheless. If I am to 
keep the men under control, I ought to be away from 
them. A crew won’t respect the officer that the Captain 
doesn’t respect; and no Captain who respects his second 
mate would put him to live with the ship’s cook.” 

He seemed struck with this, to my surprise, and looking 
at me with an expression that recalled his civil manner 
at the hotel, he said, — 

Well, you’re a gentleman, and can live aft. There’s 
truth in what you say, and after yesterday’s business I 
must look for support. Get your things to the port-cabin 
against the pantry, and send Banyard to me.” 


118 


LITTLE LOO. 


So I quitted the cabin. 

Which is her berth?” I thought to myself, and I felt 
a thrill pass through me at the prospect of being near her 
henceforth, of sitting at the same table with her, of leav- 
ing the dirty work of the brig to cut in her eyes the re- 
spectable figure to which assuredly I had a more rightful 
claim than Old Windward. A woman, they say, is at 
bottom of everything that happens ashore; but it’s queer 
to find her influence at the Equator in mid- Atlantic, to 
hear of it in the forecastle of a little brig, animating poor 
Jack Swab, and putting him out of conceit with his honest 
sphere of slush and marlinspikes. 

I walked forward. Little Welchy and the others looking 
hard at me as I passed, probably having expected to see 
me reappear with a black eye and a broken nose, and 
going into the deck-house, laid hold of the hammock in 
which Banyard swung, for here were no bunks. 

""‘^Turn out, Banyard. The skipper wants you in his 
cabin.” 

His weather-battered face popped up like a spring Jack- 
in- a-box. 

Skipper wants me, d’ye say? What’s the row now?” 

Well, if you’re innocent of it, you needn’t mind.” 

^ MV hat’s that?” he shouted. 

^Vlf the skipper thinks you’ve been trying to scuttle 
the ship, Banyard, it’s of no consequence, always suppos- 
ing that Suds and Old Sammy aren’t wai^ng to swear 
they saw you go bel(5w wuth an auger,” I answered, and 
walked out to save an explosion of laughter, for never was 
anything more ridiculous than the expression on Pendu- 
lum’s face. He was rushing aft before I reached the 
forecastle, to vindicate himself. Joking of this kind was 
unfair in the face of his coming let-down. But one falls 
into heartless ways at sea. 

AVitli the help of Scum, the cook, I transplanted my 
chest from the forecastle to the after-cabin. I then re- 
turned to bring away my bedding. 

All hands went to breakfast shortly before eight, and it 
was near that time now; everybody was awake, and the 
watch on deck, having completed the washing-down, came 
tumbling below to hear my news, and find out why I had 
taken my chest aft. 

Why, Jack’s goin’ to be second mate,” cries Beauty 


LITTLE LOO, 


119 


BUmt, in response to Suds’ inquiry. ^^Bauyard’s broke, 
and he’s to take Jack’s place. It’s a ruin start, I call it, 
tbougli I’m hot saying nothen agin Jack’s fitness for the. 
dooty.” 

^''I hope ye ain’t goin’ to make too much o’ your post,” 
growled Old Sam. Ye knows wot it is to be dancin’ a 
fandango to the braces, with nary breath o’ vind in the 
sky. I’ve seen these here kind o’ promotions afore, and 
oan’t say as I thinks well o’ them.” 

‘^Now, mates, let’s know what you’re grumbling at,” 
said I. “ It’s no fault of mine that I’m put aft as second 
mate. Don’t call it j3romotion. This is not a man-of- 
wai't Had *1 been turned into ship’s cook, I should have 
cleaned out the coppers and said nothing. A man must 
cTo what he’s told on board ship. Sam may have his growl,- 
of course, but don’t let him talk nonsense. There’s' no 
promotion ..in leaving a forecastle to be second mate of a 
small brig.” 

^‘Jack’s a gentleman,” here interrupted Deacon; and 
I’d rather have him over me than an illiterate carpenter.” 

‘‘ Who’s saying he ain’t a gentleman?” grumbled Old 
Sam. Hot that bein’ a gentleman’s any recommenda- 
tion. The skipper calls hisself a gentleman, I dare say, 
and a pretty blusterin’ specimen of them shore-boobies he 
is.” 

Why, Siimmy, which side is your liver this mornin’? 
Blowed if I don’t think you’re wanting to come Old Yind- 
vard -over the foc’sle,” otded Little Welchy. I’m for 
leavin’ Jack’s rise alone. ’Tain’t the fust time he’s been 
a hofficer, and if he’ll only elber the mate over the side 
soiiie dark night, I’ll sail round the world with him.” 

‘•I’ll not say good-by,” L exclaimed; for there may 
be a shindy aft before a dozen hours are gone, and I shall 
be here again. But if I keep aft, you shall never want an 
extra hand for a long pull. If I can’t teacji the others 
better manners, you shall never grumble at mine, and I 
hope you won’t make my work harder to me than it’s likely 
to be, that’s all.” 

This bow being executed, I shouldered my bedding and 
went away to my new quarters. 


120 


J.ITTLE LOO. 


CHAPTEE XXIL 

IK THE CABIK. 

It took me but a siiort time to put my new berth to 
rights. I borrowed a looking-glass from the cook^ and 
guessing that I should meet Miss Franklin at breakfast, I 
turned to and gave myself what Jack elegantly calls a 
regular tip-top, knock-me-down polish-up.” 

Happily for my conceit the voyage was still young, and 
my clothes in consequence pretty good; my foppery would 
have carried me to the extent of furnishing my waistcoat 
with my watchchain, had I not dreaded the mate’s sinister 
eye; so I steered clear of jewelry, and kept to the un- 
adorned sea-attire of black-cloth trousers, pilot-coat and 
fly-away silk handkerchief. 

By this time it was eight bells; so out I turned to re- 
lieve the mate. He stared at me with an ugly grin, and 
after giving me the vessel’s course, he asked me where I 
was to take my meals. 

In the cabin,” said I. 

Lord save me, you’ll be wanting a cocked-hat, you’ve 
grown so fine,” he exclaimed, his smile crumpling up his 
face, so that it looked, what with wrinkles and color, like 
the shell of a walnut. 

It’s enough to make a common fellow like me con- 
ceited, to have such a thoroughbred gentleman as you for 
a brother officer,” said I. 

Perhaps I could teach you manners, too,” he cried 
with a sneer. 

I’m sure of it,” I replied; and as I am very fond of 
ladies’ society, I’ll ask you some of these days to give me 
a lesson in that kind of polished behavior which pleases 
them, and which your face, and figui^, and language, 
assure me you have the secret of.” 

He gave me a sullen scowl, but said no more, and was 
going below; but I stopped him by saying, — 

*M’ve not breakfasted yet, Mr. Sloe; perhaps you’ll re- 
lieve me wdien you’ve done.” 

Wlio are you ■mistering he shouted, ‘'^ You’re giv- 
ing yoursoli airs a taste too early, my lad! Fin mate 


LITTLE LOO. 


121 


here, and your master, Mr. SnobI don’t give ’me no orders, 
siree !” 

I merely asked, you a civil question,” I replied, doing 
my utmost to conceal my contempt. .1 suppose your 
etiquette here is the same as in large ships.” 

D your hetiquette! talk English, can’t ye? You’d 

know what I mean if I ordered you aloft with a slush- 
pot!” 

And down went the brute in fury. 

As I flattered myself I had mortified him, I felt ne 
anger, nothing but prodigious disgust. I was quite in 
my elenient aft, a very great deal more so than when for- 
ward, and paced the deck, glancing now aloft, now at the 
compass, and putting the watch to work with all the ease 
imaginable. There need surely be no vanity in saying 
that my assumption of new duties was no effort on my 
part. And what was involuntary and unconsciously per- 
formed served me the purpose of a stroke of policy; the 
mTen at first watched me keenly, they addressed me 
familiarly, they spoke of me one to another, with here 
and there a loud laugh, as if this woukl excite a reciprocal 
grin in me, and lead me to tacitly suggest my sense of my 
fellowship with them, and of the whole thing as a good 
joke. 

But herein were they much mistaken. They found me 
quite alive to my new dignity, social enough to hold me 
free of their derision, but sufficiently reserved to let them 
appreciate the change of our relations. The long and 
short of it was this: my sea- training had been in large 
ships, where good discipline is maintained. The old tradi- 
tions operated in me in my new sphere: I imitated in my 
dealings with the men certain models I had in my mind; 
and so I believe I did Captain Franklin and Mister Sloe a 
deal of harm by unconsciously furnishing the crew with a 
strong contrast to the cold despotism of the one and the 
vulgar brutality of the other, 

I return to the moment when the mate went below. 
Glancing through the skylight as I paced the deck, I per- 
ceived Miss Franklin seated at the table. Old Windward 
fronting her, and the skipper at the head. I heard my 
name mentioned by the mate, and presumed that he was 
regaling the skipper with an account of my new fine airs, 

A glorious tropical breezy morning was this, the fierce 


122 LITTLE LOO. 

heat tempered by the wind^, the sea swelling under the 
splendor of the sun, and a lively creaming wake stealing 
out in an ever- widening tape of glittering foam from 
under our dancing counter. This was a morning to stir 
life to its innermost sources. The decks, soon dried by 
the sun shone white as bleached canvas; the brass- work 
flashed to the movements of the hull; the sails stretched 
black lines athwart the planks under the climbing orb 
• whose meridian altitude would crowd our shadows under 
our feet; the hens under the long-boat crooned to the 
warmth. Kor were the men engaged about the decks 
the least picturesque details of the gay, moving picture; 
Beauty Blunt, with his blackface and red shirt,,^01d Sam^ 
with his iron hair and tarry breeks, Jimmy in serge and a 
Scotch cap; others with bare arms, and mossy breasts dis- 
closed by open shirts; all with naked feet, their hairy arms 
black with the sun, their sheath-knives strapped to their 
hips; filled the eye with color, and submitted figures as 
quaint and old-world-like as the queerly-dressed people yoii 
see in ancient Dutch sea-pieces. 

^ After the mate h-ad been below half an hour, he came 
I on 'deck again, and with him the skipper. 

You can go down and get your breakfast,” said he; 
and just remember that its your watch, and that Fve 
been on deck since four o’clock, will ’ee?” A gentle hint 
that I should not linger over the meal. 

Down I went with rather a fluttering pujse, I may as well 
r own, for I fancied Miss Franklin was still at table. Her 
place w:as vacant, however, and the cook, wdio acted as 
- steward, was clearing away the plates and broken victuals. 
He brought me a rasher of bacon, and that, with a cup of 
cocoa, and some good white biscuit, furnished me with 
the sweetest meal I had enjoyed since my last bite at the 
hotel in Bayport, ' 

111 the middle of this Miss Franklin came out of the 
cabin alongside of her brother’s. I instantly rose and bowed, 
charmed afresh with her rich beauty and dark eyes spark- 
ling undBr the shadow of her hat. She looked both 
pleased and amused to see me. 

Pray forgive me for asking your name,” said she. 
^^Jack Chadburn,” I replied, falling to my breakfast 
again, for Old Windward was not to be kept waiting, 

‘^My brother said* it was Chadwick.” 


LITTLE. LOO. 


123 


Burn, not Wick/’ said I. 

This conjunction of terminals set her laughing, 

suppose you would rather be here than among the 
men/’ slie exclaimed. 

^^Yes,”,I replied emphatically, with a glance at her 
brown eyes. 

“ They must be a dreadful set of persons; just fancy 
their knocking Mr. Sloe down and making his nose bleed, 
and threatening my brother with knives! I wonder he 
has the courage to proceed any further. I begged him to 
turn back and go home. I wish he would, Mr. Ohad- 
burn; I am quite sick of the sea. Don’t you think you 
could prevail upon him to go home?” 

said I, shaking my head and wondering if she 
expected me to laugh at her simplicity. 

But I am frightened to be in a ship with such men. 
My brother says they are dreadful characters — the worst 
crew he ever sailed with.” 

You have no occasion to be afraid of them. Miss 
Branklin.” 

But I am afraid. It is dreadful to hear of drawn 
knives.” 

I made no answer. After a little silence she said,- 
beaming one of her rich smiles on me, — 

I am very glad my brother has removed you from the 
forecastle; I told you the other day that you were not in 
your proper place there.” 

You will make me conceited enough to think so.” 

Here the skylight was darkened by Old Windward’s 
head, and his hurricane voice roared down, — • 

•'^Now then! how long am I to be kept here?” 

I instantly rose and walked to the companion; but in 
passing I said to Miss Franklin, — 

^Ht is not the crew of -this vessel whom you have to 
fear, but the men who command the crew.” 

You are quite right,” she answered promptly, and 
with a gravity that surprised me in her; I have said the 
same thing’ to my brother. If the patience of educated 
persons is limited, how narrow must be the patience pf 
such men as those in the forecastle?” 

I wished, as I went on deck, that the Captain would 
borrow a little of his sister’s sense. He hung about the 
deck for the rest of my watch, to see, I presume, how I 


124 


LITTLE LOO. 


dealt with the men. This was rather annoying, for Miss 
Franklin was on the skylight, and I had been looking for- 
Avard to a chat with her. The luxury was not to be in- 
dulged in with the skipper’s eye upon me. 

Strangely enough, however, an opportunity occurred to 
me to show him my qualification in one essential respect 
as an officer. 

The breeze gathered strength as the morning advanced, 
and under swelling studding-sails the brig rode swiftly 
along her course. Just about ten o’clock, without a warn- 
ing, without the smallest hint in the sky of the capricious 
change, the wind veered to the south’ard, and in the 
twinkling of an eye we were all aback, booms buckling^ 
the brig a log on the water, and a smart wind whistling 
over our heads. 

Here Avas a chance to distinguish myself, to exhibit my 
smartness toThe admiration of Miss Franklin, who looked 
about her alarmed. The skipper could not give an order 
that I had not anticipated; all hands were routed out, the 
port fore-braces manned, the lee studding-sails got in, the 
main-braces checked, trysail brailed up, head sheets flat- 
tened in, and the brig sent spinning on her heel like a top. 
I tallied on with the men and hauled with the best of 
them, sent up the briskest hands in my Avatch (inspiring 
them Avith a spirit of rivalry by sly asides respecting Old 
WindAvard’s duffers ”) to rig in the lee studding-sail booms^ 
and within a quarter of an Four of being taken aback, I 
had got the 3^ards braced to the masts, the main tack 
doAvn, and the brig close-hauled buzzing under royals to a 
strong breeze that crested the sea, and arched a rainbow at 
our bows. 

The skipper gave me no praise — that Avas not to be ex- 
pected. But by the jealous scoavI Old Windward (avIio 
had tumbled up Avith the others) bestoAved upon me, I 
might be sure that a Avord had been Avhispered in his ear 
in my favor. ’Tis an ill- wind that bloAvs nobody any good, 
and the effect of this southerly start AA^as to satisfy the 
skipper that I Avas competent to discharge my duties: a 
happy impression, for he left the brig in my hands after 
this, and bequeathed me a clear deck to do my \Awk on. 


LITTLE LOO. 


125 


CHAPTEE XXIII. 

A SOET COl^EESSIOK. 

Xo time passes so quickly as time passed at sea. Mo- 
Lotouy makes quick dispatch of days. It seemetl but yes- 
terday that we had been to\ved out of Bayport; now we 
were across the Line, rising new constellations every night, 
and sinking those heavenly signs which are dear as life in 
tlie eyes of the homeward-bound mariner. 

I may as well own here — for the confession cannot be 
delayed much longer — that I was beginning to fall des- 
perately in love with Louisa FiTuklin. Heretofore her 
dark eyes and sweet face had jDnived but a fiarmless fas- 
cination — provoking honest, .imjulsivo admiration, but 
no deep feeling. Tiiat was, when I was forward and she 
was aft, when the Avhole length ot the brig separated us. 
Then tlie humbling sense of my position, the work I had 
to do, the bullying I would often receive from Old Wind- 
ward, acted as a restraint upon sentiment: I thought of 
her as something extremely distant, and the tar that cov- 
ered me, the men I consorted with, the meanness of my 
duties about the deck, were as a covering of ridicule under 
which, with my perce2ation of the absurd, love could no 
more exist than a candle could burn in the hold of a live 
codfish. 

But now there was a new adjustment of matters. First 
and foremost, the change of position had freshened up in 
me the conceit that the forecastle had doused; the con- 
ceit, I mean, which keeps a man’s nature salt and sweet, 
putting him on good terms with himself. I could assume 
with 2:)erfect propriety that natural character of mine 
which in the forecastle would have earned me abuse and 
kicks from such of the men as would have made a trial of 
their toes with my fists. I was no longer Jack Slush, 
feeling it his duty, when Miss Franklin condescended to 
ask him a question, to answer her with a Yes, mum;” ! 
was once more Jack Chadburn, gent., rough in manner 
and speech, a sea-dog,, but no sea-puppy, I believe, capable 
of talking with the girl from her own level, and quite 
self-possessed enough to tackle Old Windward’s brawling 


126 


LITTLE LOO. 


coarseness in a way that left me none the worse for the 
encounters, in her eyes, at all events; and her good opinion 
was all I cared about. 

Moreover, I saw a great deal of her. Many a quiet talk 
with her would I have in the first watches, wlien Old 
Windward was snorting in his bunk, and the skipper be- 
low, and the men quiet forward, and the brig sailing 
calmly over the sea. She grew upon me, she' became a 
fixed and generous and tencier thought in me. In our 
conversations! had told her all about myself, my home, my 
mother, my father’s second marriage, my voyages, my 
poverty. Her brown eyes, witli the starlight on them, 
would be on mine; her sweet face, pale in the gloom, 
turned toward me; her silence lovely with the sympathy 
and interest, it exjn’essed. 

And bit by bit I got to know all about her; hovv^ she 
was an orphan (as I had suspected); how her brother, 
having built this brig, and christened her the Little Loo 
in honor of his sister — ‘'^whom he loves sometimes, and 
sometimes hates,” she would say with a pout — had induced 
her to take a voyage with him to Australia and back; and 
how, feeling dull in the little Kentish village, where she 
had a house of her own, she had consented, not imagining 
that a long sea voyage in a small vessel was a dismally dull 
affair, quite different from the stories she had heard of the 
doings of passengers going to India and other parts of the 
V world, when playing the piano, and raffling, and dancing, 
and singing and acting made the time pass merrily. 

And how was it on her side? I could not quite tell. 
She liked my society, nothing was surer. Often she would 
linger at the table to receive me when I came below. She 
was rather inscrutable, a dark-eyed witch, sometimes 
grave, sometimes gay, sometimes talking the simplest 
nonsense, sometimes conversing wisely— a delicious puz- 
zle for me to divert and torture myself over when alone. 

Sometimes I would break from my fancies: ^^Pooh! she 
likes you ' because you are somebody to talk to. She 
is bored to death by the voyage: her brother is no com- 
pany, the mate is a bear; she pays you no compliment,' 
friend. Let her get ashore and she’ll only think of you 
to laugh over the awkward Jack who admired her, and 
whom she will for ever associate in her mind with the 


LITTLE LOO. 127 

slush-pot which she once beheld him greasing down the 
main-royal mast with.’^ 

Whether she suspected that I was in love with her I 
could not guess. I suppose such fancies as she filled me 
with would leak out in our nocturnal chats, when the 
darkness conferred on me the license of soft words. But 
I was tolerably reserved. I gushed to myself, and the 
safety-valve blew only when I was alone. I am at least 
positive that the skipper had not the faintest notion 
of what was in niy mind, neither he nor Old Windward* 
I could not err here. 

This piece of rambling brings the brig well to the south- 
ward of the Line, and on August 5th you may fix our lati- 
tude at 6^, drawing hard upon the drift of the South-East 
Trades. 

One middle watch found me sitting on the skylight, 
watching a tendency on the part of the royals to ‘Mift,” 
and waiting for a more decided manifestation of the veer- 
ing of the wind to clap the watch upon the braces. 

We were having all this time what we caJl at sea 
^Hadies’ weather, ’’ smooth water, light breezes, and a 
broadening moon o’ nights, which flung a mist of silver 
over the universe of waters and transformed the brig’s 
canvas into spaces of mother-o’-pearl. 

The night-glass lay. at my side, for not long ago I had 
sighted a sail on the starboard beam, a mere fleck of white 
to the eye under the moonshine, but when deciphered by 
the glass, a full-rigged ship standing north; and now she 
was gliding into the shadow beyond the cone of ruffled 
silver in the sea. Such a night as this was would make a 
money-lender sentimental. It was a pure romance of 
nature — an idyl of heaven and ocean: a dome of ether, 
black at the horizon, pale at the center, where the moon 
hung, phospliorescent with configurations of pallid stars 
which grew faint as their disks drew near to the central 
veil of moonlight, and an under surface of ocean glitter- 
ing with the restless shivering by the wind of the mirrored 
splendor of the moon, dim beyond the shine, then darken- 
ing into ebony at the rim, where sea and sky are one. 

A figure came stealing along the deck and up to me. 
It was easy from his walk to tell who he was, and failing 
his walk I should have known him by his shadow, which 


128 


LITTLE LOO. 


sprang from his feet upon the tieck as if done in black 
paint. 

^^Is that yon^ Deacon?” 

Yes; isn’t this something like a beautiful night?” 

Verv fine indeed. But how is it you are not turned 

in?” 

Well, you see, I can’t sleep. Somehow, I’m restless- 
like to- night.” 

‘‘'It isn’t the moon, is it?” said I, laughing, at the^ame 
time going away from the skylight-, as I did not want the 
Captain to overhear me talking. 

‘•The moon doesn’t trouble me,” he answered. “I 
have been on the look-out some time to have a talk with 
you about that matter I mentioned the other night. 
There is no harm in my speaking of it to you now, is 
there?” 

“It’s your island that’s on your mind, is it?” 

“Why, look here! I told you my secret because I 
reckoned on getting your help. It’s a big thing to put 
into a man’s power, if he don’t mean to stick fast to me, 
and whack the difficulties, and bring the money away,” 
said he, with his eyes on the deck, and his face looking 
odd enough in the clear, yet modifying revelation of the 
moon, 

“ Your secret is safe,” I answered impatiently, “ whether 
I lend you a hand or not.” 

“A man ought to trust nobody!” he exclaimed^ eying 
me with a very troubled expression. 

“ Weil, you have trusted me, and it is too late to bother 
now.” 

“ What do you know?” 

“What do I know!” I echoed. “ Why, what you told 
me.” 

“ What was that?” 

“ Confound your bad memory! Do you want me to tell 
you the whole yarn?” 

“I ask, what did I tell ^mu?” he cried irritably. 

I looked askant at him, and pulled my hands out of my 
pockets, as I answered, — 

“ You toid me of some island in the South Sea, in 
which you had buried sixty thousand pounds’ worth of 
money and gold: that th.is island was three degrees 


LITTLE LOO. 129 

west of Teapy, and true on the parallel of thirty degrees 
south/’ 

Well, you have the secret of my life at your finger’s 
end!” said he, breathing quickly. 

And a rich man I am in consequence! As rich as the 
fellow who stands upon the Goodwin Sands at low water, 
and says, ^ Under my feet lie centuries of wrecks, with 
bullion enough to pay o-ff the National Debt.’” 

‘‘ What’s the use of such comparisons!” he cried ex- 
citedly. The wealth under tlie Goodwin Sands is lost 
for ever — of no more use than a gold mine in the moon. 
But my money lies ready as any bonded goods in a dock- 
yard to be shipped and carried home.” 

‘‘It’s a queer story,” said I, impressed by his earnest- 
ness. “ M.y advice to you is to let this secret go no 
further. Since you saved the money yourself, keep it. 
It may as well be in your pocket as at the botfeom of the 
sea, where those it belongs to believe it.” 

“Now,” he exclaimed, folding his arms, “what were 
my reasons for choosing you out of the ship’s crew tc tell 
this yarn to — ?” 

“ I know, I know,” I interrupted. 

“I want a vessel to fetch this money away,” he con- 
tinued irritably, “ and men to work her. You’re the first 
living man I’ve opened the secret to, and I’ve asked you 
to become my partner in this job. There’s sixty thousand 
pounds’ wortli; twenty would satisfy you, twenty would 
do for me, and there’s twenty left to be divided among 
the men.” 

“But the notion you wanted to put into my head 
was a thundei:ing piratical one. You talked of seizing 
this vessel. Do you think: I’d help you in such an under- 
taking?’’ 

“ Why not?” 

“ Because I’m not a villain.” 

He stared at me with flashing eyes, whilst his fingers 
worked upon his folded arras as though he were playing 
the piano. Then, softening his face with a smile, and 
lowering his voice, he said, — 

“ I reckon the Captain has spoilt you by bringing you 
•aft.” 

“Not a bit.” 

The brutality of the mate, and the skipper’s cold- 


130 


LITTLE LOO. 


blooded ness, don’t make your heart savage any longer* 
It’s the girl that’s working the oracle, Jaciv.’’ 

‘^ Keep her name out of our talk, mate,” said I sternly, 
though a little startled by his allusion to my secret, which> 
if unknown to the skipper, under whose nose it flourished, 
was surely unsuspected by the crew. can dislike the 
skipper’s and mate’s treatment just as much now as when 
1 lived among you. But let me fill any post you please on 
board ship, you’ll never find me making one in a mutiny, 
so I tell you.” 

He hugged himself tightly, and his chin dropped on his 
bosom. In this posture he remained, motionless and 
silent, for so many moments that, growing impatient, I 
was about to quit his side, when he exclaimed, — 

^^Suppose we let the matter rest for the present?” 

^^With all my heart.” 

Something may turn up when we get to Sydney. If 
I put a good scheme before you there, perhaps you’ll come 
into, it?” 

“ Providing it’s honest, I may.” 

“ Oh, leave your morals to me. I’ll do them no harm. 
Mind, 3 ^ou are sworn to secrecy.” 

“‘'Yes, yes,” I muttered imi^atiently, and without, an- 
other word he glided softly forward. 


CHAJgTER XXIV. 

MUEDER. 

I COULD not quite make up my mind, as to Deacon’s 
stoiT. A man has sometimes two senses at work in him, 
one that accepts and one that rejects. I believed him be- 
cause his narrative was a probable one, with an essential 
voucher for its authenticity (in one material respect) in 
the newspaper paragraph, and because he could liave no 
motive in inventing a tale of the sort. I doubted him be- 
cause I did not quite understand his character, nor liked 
what I knew. 

A shrewder man than myself, placed in my circum- 
stances, with all to win and nothing to lose, would have 
turned the story over, questioned Deacon closely, and, 
being satisfied with the man’s truthfulness as regards the 
gold in the island, wquld have dealt with the matter as a 


Little loo. 


131 


speculation — if the gold is there, have it; if not, why, 
then, nothing is lost but the hope of getting it — and 
schemed with him to reach the island, and carry away the 
gold from under the cocoa-nut tree. But Jack is pro- 
verbially a reckless fellow: and partly because I did not 
like Deacon, and partly because I bestowed my thoughts 
elsewhere, and partly because of the subtle instinct of 
doubt which I could neither justify nor demolish, I gave 
Deacon’s secret no more of my attention, which perhaps 
would not have been the case had I remained in the fore- 
castle, and in the same watch with him, 

A fortnight after crossing the Line two incidents oc- 
curred, both illustrative of life at sea. 

It had happened that one of the apprentices, a pale, 
delicate-looking lad, but a favorite with the men for his 
obliging nature and cheerful disposition, was called aft by 
Old Windward to scrape some grease-spots out of the deck, 
just abaft the starboard main rigging. 

I was on deck at the time, a little before midday, making 
ready to take sights;” for the skipper, having found me 
smart at figures and well acquainted with navigation, had 
commissioned me always to be in attendance with my 
sextant at noon. 

The lad, scraping away on his knees and doing his best, 
was told by the mate that he was mutilating the deck. He 
answered that the spots were deep, and that he’ had to 
s^rajie hard to get them out. 

I tell you you’re wounding the deck; I’ll rope’s-end 
you within an inch of your life if you give me any of your 
sauce.” 

^^But come and see, sir; — the deck’s hard, sir, an’ I 
can’t get the marks out without scrapin’ strong,” re- 
sponded the boy, raising his pale face and looking plaint- 
ively at the mate. 

You will answer me, will you, you cub!” shouted the 
mate, going up to him. You’ve lamed your tricks from 
the mutineering dogs forrard, have ye! I’ll teach you to 
hold your tongue!” 

And forthwith he struck the lad with his clinched fist on 
the side of the head. The boy fell like a piece of lead 
on his side, the blood gushing from his nose, mouth, and 
ear. 

Thiere were some men in the waist of the brig at work 


132 


LITTLE LOO. 


upon a sail, and they groaned like dogs when they saw 
the blow given and the boy fall. 

The mate looked around upon them, and standing over 
the boy ordered'him to get up and go oiKwith his work. 

No skulking! up with you! I know your tricks. On 
to your knees and at it again, or Fll trice ye up by your 
heels, head down, and you shall scrape at that.” And he 
gave the boy a kick. 

This was more than flesh and blood could stand. 

Hold your brutal foot!” I cried. Don’t you see the 
boy’s stunned?” 

Who are you addressing?” shouted he, looking fury 
and murder at me. 

Tlie Captain stood by impassive, sextant in haiid. 

You have knocked the boy insensible,” I said; ^^and 
your kicking him now is sheer brutality.” 

ril fling you overboard if you talk to me, you snob!” 
yelled the mate, frantic with rage. I’ll have the hand- 
ling of your body, you land-booby, you!” 

I put down my sextant and pulled off my coat. 

If 3^ou come within a yard of where I stand. I’ll not 
leave you a whole bone in your body,” said 1 . 

By "this time the men had left the sail, others their work 
forward, and were crowding aft. 

Captain Franklin!” shrieked the mate, order him to 
be put in irons, sir. Don’t 5^e see what his meaning is? 
If you wink at this, the brig’ll be seized. He’s the ring- 
leader, cnrseiiim!” 

I had posed myself to receive him, and my fist was ready 
to swing into his face. But the ruffian who could strike 
a boy had no fancy to put his heart against mine. 

‘‘On with your coat and take up your sextant,” said 
the skipper to me. “ Mr. Sloe, we’ve had enough of this. 
Here, you ” (to the men) “ what are you doing? get away 
to your work. One of you carry this boy forrard, and 
bring a swab.” 

I obeyed the Captain’s orders, and the mate walked 
right aft. Scarcely had the boy been carried forward, 
quite insensible, when Miss Franklin came on deck. 
Seeing the blood she stopped, looked at it with open eyes 
of horror, then at me, then backward at the mate, and 
ran to her brother. Some hurried words passed between 
them, and she returned to the cabin. 


LITTLE LOO. 


133 


It might have been the swarming of the men aft that 
naved me: that, and the memory of the scene when the 
men had struck down the mate; perhaps a sudden disgust 
of the mate’s brutality, and fear of the consequences of 
the blow on the boy, had held the skipper inactive; certain 
it IS, that had the incident I have narrated taken place 
prior to the first outbreak among the men, I should have 
had both the Captain and m^te upon me in a hand-to-hand 
fight, I should have been confined with irons on my legs 
and biscuit and water for my allowance, and ultimately 
charged at Sydney with mutineering. 

The worst blow to the mate was the Captain’s tacit 
taking of my part. He said nothing to me’ afterward 
about my interference, but the scowling glances he threw 
at me, the hate in his eyes when his glance met mine, 
were good tokens that he was biding his time,” and 
waiting for an opportunity for revenge. This sullen be- 
havior made me vigilant to guard against any cowardly 
attack. 

I had charge of the brig during the first dog-watch on 
that same day, and about a quarter of an hour after com- 
ing on deck I spied smoke upon the horizon, rigfit ahead. 
There was a brisk wind blowing abeam, and the smol^e 
rolled along the sea-line athwart our ha\vse, I concluded 
at once that it was a steamer, homeward-bound, and that 
we should shortly be abreast of each other, and under that 
imjDression I 'went aft to see that the signal-halyards were 
clear, and the signals ready in the flag-locker. 

Signaling a home^Yard-bound ship at sea is always a 
notable event to an outward -bounder: you think of home 
and the good tidings of your safety which the stranger 
will carry a\vay with him to those you love. I smiled 
mournfully, however, at my own impulse in running aft 
to see all clear for signaling. Whom had 1 to send tid- 
ings to? was there a single pair of eyes in the whole of 
England that would brighten for my sake over the intelli- 
gence that the Little Loo was spoken in such and such a 
degree of latitude, and that all was well with her? 

^ I kept the glass pointing to the spot whence the smoke 
took its start: but w'e w’ere so long in rising the funnel or 
spars, that I began to think she \vas a steamer heading as 
we were, and that we were slowly overhauling her. Pres- 


134 


LITTLE LOO. 


ently the thickness of the horizontal column of smoke put 
li notion into my head. 

It looks like a vessel on fire^ sir/’ I said to the Cap- 
tain^ who had come on deck, and was leaning over the 
bulwarks watching the smoke. 

That’s what it is,” he replied curtly, without looking 
at me. This had been his manner, on and off, since the 
quarrel with the mate. 

A whole hour passed before the hull of the burning 
ship came into the field of the glass. As well as I could 
make out she was a big black vessel, a North American 
built ship, to judge by the cut of her bows. She looked 
like a small volcanic island, the smoke pouring away in 
dense volumes, black as ink, and swirling along the 
horizon like the shadow of a coast. I sw^ept the water 
around her in search of her boats, but not a speck was 
visible. To clear the smoke, or to see her more plainly, 
the wheel was put down a spoke or twm, the braces 
manned, and the burning vessel brought on the lee-bow. 

The hands all turned out to have a look, and with their 
awestruck faces, their frowning foreheads, their motion- 
less attitudes, their low voices, as they spoke one to another 
with their eyes transfixed, they seemed the fittest audi- 
ence in the world for the terrific .spectacle. The sun was 
low upon the rim of the sea when we had brought the 
ship abeam, our mainyards were laid aback iind the vessel 
bove:to. Miss Franklin came up to me, and asked, in a 
whisper, if I thought there was anybody on aboard the 
ship. I answered that I thought not; that nothing could 
live in that smoke, and no part of the deck was free of it. 
The boats were gone, and in all probability the people be- 
longing to her had put off long ago. 

The setting sunshine streamed upon the dense smoke 
and colored it a hideous red; such stifling, belching, mon- 
strous-colored smoke one might think streams from the 
pit of hell. Though a long mile To leeward, the crackling 
of her spars, the hissing of the blazing sails and rigging 
and yards, as they fell piece-meal into the water, was quite 
distinct. Every now and then the smoke would thin, and 
yield space for tongues of flame, which ran up into the 
sky in shape of corkscrews, and as these drew down, the^ 
smoke would gush forth again, no longer column-shaped, 
but in a series of gigantic balloon-shaped volumes. It 


LITTLE LOO. 


135 


was a sight to madden one; for there was something hu- 
man in a sailor’s eyes in the helplessness of the vessel, 
licked lip, tortured, and slowly devoured by the murder- 
ous, slavering, raver)ous beast, fire! 

The sun went down and the darkness followed fast, and 
in The gloom the horrid grandeur of the spectacle stood 
out; as the hull rolled this way she showed her incandes- 
cent interior, a great shell filled with crimson lava, with 
huge flames amidst it, burning blue and green, whilst, 
now and again a fork of fire, brilliant as lightning, 
whizzed up and cleaved tiie smoke like a spear. For miles 
and miles the sea was illuminated, whilst the gigantic 
flare was made doubly grand by the vivid reflection of the 
fire in the water. The 'Captain was as fascinated as the 
rest of us, and not a sound escaped him whilst th^ blaze 
held in sight; up till nine o’clock the hull was burning 
furiously, the fires then waned, and we were thinking that 
the ship was sinking, when she blew up; the heavens were 
gashed with fire; it was avast upheaval and rapid vomit- 
ing up of the whole body of flame, casting a noon -tide 
effulgence far and wide; high on the wind the sparks 
winked and hurried in a broad sheet; to right and left' 
fragments of the wreck went whirling, like huge torches 
streaming in the hands of flying spirits; they fell quickly, 
and as they struck the water were, instantly extinguished. 
Like a vision the blazing scene passed away, and the deso- 
late sea was once more a blank, the stars throbbing bi’ightly 
.overhead. * 

There must have been a tidy lot of gunpowder in her,” 
I heard the mate say to the Captain. The main-yards 
were then swung, and the brig stood on her way. 

Miss Franklin lingered on deck- after the Captain and 
mate had gone below, the first for his grog, the second to 
get his kleep before he relieved me at midnight. For a 
long while she remained staring at the dark water, as 
though her mind had not received all the dismal gran- 
deur and picturesque horror of the scene just enacted, and 
was trying to realize it. Then, looking around lier and 
finding her brother gone, she peeped through the skylight 
and was about to go below when her eyes lighted on me. 

I never thought,” she exclaimed 'in a subdued voice, 
and with the air of a person profoundly impressed, ‘‘ when 
I used to read stories about, burning ships, that I should 


136 


LITTLE LOO. 


one day see the reality! Is it not shocking to think that, 
only a few hours ago, that ship was a beautiful form, 
moving with white sails, across the sea, with men on board 
of her, who, perhaps, sang to their work with light hearts, 
and thought of the homes they had left or were returning 
to? Where is she now? Oh, such sudden extinction is 
dreadful F’ There was a moving, wistful tremor in her 
voice that made its tones as musical as a lute’s. Could 
you feel positive, Mr. Chadburn, that no one was left on 
board ofirer?” 

judged so’by the sure indication of her boats being 
gone.” 

Where would they go?” 

They would probably run before the wind.” * 

When do you think they would reach land?” 

I stared at her. 

^^The nearest land is the coast of South America, many 
hundreds of miles away. They would not think of making 
the land. Their idea would be to get in the track of 
vessels, and be rescued in that way.” 

She looked toward the dark expanse of running waters, 
and shivered: drew her shawl around her, and, with a 
whispered Good-night,” went into the cabin. Hardly 
had she gone when Pendulum Banyard, who still swung 
his hammock in the deck-house*, came, in his shambling 
,way, along the deck, and said,— 

Young Joey seems downright queer-headed, and tak- 
ing on, truly. The skipper ought to look at him. It’s 
all along o’ Windward’s fist.” 

I walked forward, followed by Banyard, and put my 
head into the deck-house. The do^r slided in grooves, and 
stood pushed back as far as it would go. Light was yielded 
by a swing-lamp fixed to a bracket. The chests of the 
occupants of the house were ranged under the hammocks 
which swung athwartships, and on them sat the cook and 
the apprentice named Hardy. In the hammock at the 
extreme end of the house, close against the galley and the 
furthest removed from the door, was Hie apprentice called 
among us. Young Joey, the lad whom Windward had 
struck on the head that morning. He was not to be seen, 
for he lay deep in his hammock, but he could be. heard. 
The dry, moaning voice, the low, delirious wailing, struck 
a living pain in the ear. 


LITTLE LOO. 


137 


It’s damned hard upon me to be kept awake/’ said 
the cook. Who’s goin’ to turn in with that infernal 
row goin’ on all night agin a man’s ear? I sleep next to 
him. He ought to be carried aft. Wot I say is, let 
them as brought it about have the benefit o’ the shindy.” 

We must get him down out of that,” said I. Why, 
the heat is suffocating, and here you have him swung 
close against the hot galley, and clear of the little air that 
comes through the door. Lend me a hand to get him 
down.” 

In order to do this it was necessary to cut the lashings 
of the hammock away from the eyebolts in the roof; we 
lowered him as he lay, and stretched his hammock along 
the chests. A joainful sight was now disclosed; the boy 
had been hoisted into his hammock, dressed as he was 
lifted from the deck; his trousers and shirt were stained 
with blood, so was the coarse pillow on which his head 
lay, showing that he had bled afresh after having been 
got into his hammock. In fact, he was bleeding now 
from the ear, and the froth upon his lip was ensanguined. 

His face was deadly white, and his fair hair was dabbled 
with the blood. He moaned and talked incessanth^but 
his words were quite unintelligible. 

I directed Banyard to wipe the slaver from his lips, and 
put water to them, and hurried aft to report to the Cap- 
tain. He was sitting under the skylight, and I hailed him 
from the deck. I think Young Joe, the apprentice, is 
dying, but it v/ould be as well for you to see him.” 

^MVho?” he answered, looking up. 

The boy Mr. Sloe struck this morning.” 

He instantly jumped up and came on deck. ' 

^ MY here is he?” 

‘Mn the deck-house.” 

He went hastily forward, and I followed him. My 
eyes were on his face when he looked at the boy, and I 
saw him turn pale as a sheet. 

‘MYhat’s the matter with you? Are you in pain? 
Where do you feel it?” he exclaimed, with tlie awkward 
manner of a man unused to address kind words. 

The boy mumbled and wailed, and roiled the whites of 
his eyes. Though Banyard had wiped the froth from, his 
lips, more had come, bloodier than before; and now the 
pool was black under his ear. 


138 


LITTLE LOO. 


If the skipper don’t promise to get tlio mate swung 

for this, by we’ll lynch him for it,” growled a deep 

voice behind me. 

I glanced behind and saw three of the men belonging 
to my watch peering through the door. 

The skipper did not turn his head. 

Will a little brandy revive him, do you think, Chad- 
bnrn?” he exclaimed. Go and get some at once. Here, 
give me that cloth,” and he took the cloth from Banyarxl’s 
hand, and wiped the boy’s mouth, whilst I ran aft. 

Miss Franklin was standing near the table when I 
entered the cabin. 

^ What is the matter?” she exclaimed. 

^^The lad struck by Mr. Sloe this morning is dying,” 
I answered. 

Dying!” she cried, with a look and in a voice of inde- 
scribabie horror. 

I hurried back to the deck-house with the brandy, and 
the skipper put some to the boy’s lips. The glass shook 
in his fingers to such a degree that he spilt some of the 
contents over the lad’s throat. 

It’s hard upon a boy to be killed for doin’ his work,” 
said the lad named Hardy. He told me his mother 
died a week before he shipped; he was made soft by that, 
he says, and I heerd ^him praying to her t’other night. 
He was a kind mate to me — he guv me this shirt.” 
Pointing to the old bit of worsted upon him, he burst into 
tears. 

Stop that blubberin’!” cried Banyard; reckon there’s 
water enough i’ the hold without you fetching us into an 
extra spell o’ pumping.” 

And not untenderly hooking liis fingers into Hardy’s 
collar, he jumped him through the door on to the deck 
outside. 

^•Lucius, the boy is dying; he must be taken to the 
cabin. Look at the froth upon his mouth! Unbutton 
the collar of his shirt!” 

This voice, after Banyard’s, was like the notes of a flute 
following the bay of a watch-dog. 

Miss Franklin pushed past me and went up to the lad, 
and her white fingers were busy at his throat in a mo- 
ment. 


LITTLE LOO. 139 

Go back to the cabin — this is no place for yon/^ ex- 
claimed the Captain in a low, passionate voice. 

‘MVhy may not I help him?'^ she cried, drying the 
boy’s month with her handkerchief. ‘‘ Look at his poor 
face! look at the blood upon his pillow! Oh, what a 
heartless monster to strike so young a boy! I will not go!”‘ 
she exclaimed, struggling in the grasp which her brother 
had laid upon her arm. Do not you see he is dyingp 

Why do you allow your mate to act so cruelly? Moisten 
his poor mouth; dip this in water, and press it to his fore- 
head.” 

She turned her e3"es appealingly -on me and extended 
her handkerchief. I pressed forward to obey her, but as 
I was about to apr)ly tiie saturated handkerchief to the 
sufferer’s head, a volume of blood rushed thick from his 
mouth. Take the cold off my breast!” he shrieked, and 
stiffened his legs and lay dead. 

The girl put her hands over her eyes, and a fierce shud- 
der passed over her; with a face of death she turned on 
her heel and went out of the deck-house. 

The Captain was preparing to follow her. ^ 

^•Skipper,” exckiimed a low growling voice, what 
d’ye mean to do with the murderer of that lad?” 

The voice was Beauty Blunt’s, and close behind him 
were half-a-dozen of the crew. 

“ It was no fault of the mate’s,” answered the Captain 
hastily. don’t believe the boy died from the blow 

given him. Chadburn, get the body sewn up; if you 
think he’s dead we’ll bury him now.” 

Ye shan’t put us off, skipper — what do you mean to » 
do with liim?” 

‘^What do you want me to do?” replied the Captain, 
standing in the light thrown by the lamp in the house 
upon the deck, and facing the men. 

‘^It’s blood for blood wherever men is civilized,” was 
the answer. 

^^Do you expect me to hang the mate?” “^aid the Cap- 
tain in a low voice, made peculiar by the intensity and . 
fierceness of the utterance. “"I tell you, men, this was,, 
an accident, no murder! Go forward, now,” 

Is that your answer?” 

Yes,” with a stamp of the foot, and, wheeling about,, 
he walked aft. 


140 


LITTLE LOO. 


i 

The men hung together for some moments in breath- 
less silence. One of them then stole to the door of the 
house. 

Come and see him/’ he said in a whisper, and they 
advanced in a group and stood in the doorway. 

After looking on in silence, they went away forward. 
J listened to hear them, speak, but no other sound reached 
my ears than the sobbing of the dead boy’s messmate. 
Hardy, weeping unrebuked in tlie shadow of tlie fore- 
mast. 

Banyard and I sewed the body up, securing some lead 
at the foot of the hammock; this done, I went aft, and re- 
ported all ready to the Captain. He leaned in a sullen 
posture against the companion. 

Sloe will bring me into trouble if he uses his fist so 
freely. Let him hammer the dogs into civility, but he 
should have kept his hands ofi the youngsters,” he mut- 
tered, looking at me, but scarcely seeming to know whom 
he addressed. He polished his forehead with his handker- 
chief; meanwhile I repeated what I had said. 

^^Then drop it overboard!” he exclaimed. 

At once?” 

At once? of course. This instant.” 

Is no service to be read?” 

^MYho’s going to read the service at this hour of the 
night? Get the thing out of the brig. If it lies all night, 
it will keep the men plotting, and unless you want to see 
the decks a shambles, you’ll obey my orders.” 

Then, subduing his voice, he said almost caressingly, — 

Kid me of this quietly, like a good fellow. Get it to 
the port gangway, don’t let the men see you, and make 
no more splash than you can help.” 

I did not all like this precipitate and sacrilegious dis- 
posal of the still warm corpse; but my duty was to obey 
orders: so calling Banyard, we sneaked the hammock and 
its pale freight on to the deck, and dropped it overboard. 
Nobody cjwne forward, nor challenged the job. 

All through the rest of my watch, the skipper hung 
about the deck, once or twice going below, but returning 
to fiit here and there. A little before eight bells, he said 
to me, — 

If there’s a mutiny among the men, I hope I may 
count upon your services?” 


LITTLE LOO. 


141 


« * # 

will help you to the utmost to maintain discipline, 

but the men shall know that I do not justify Mr. Sloe’s 
brutality.” 

You had better keep your opinions to yourself, if yon 
value your own interest. Your duty is clear, and_, as a 
gentleman, I don’t suppose you’ll abet the crimes of a gang 
of men who are felons at heart.” 

He walked away, giving me no opportunity to reason 
with him. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

I AM KEARLY DROW'MED. 

EmHT bells had been struck some time before Old 
♦ 'Windward relieved me. Xo doubt the Captain had been 
telling him about the death of the boy. He came up 
to me with a swagger, and exclaimed, striking his breast- 
pocket, — 

There’s the brains of six blackguards under this coat.” 

(And the brains of the biggest blackguard of them all 
atop of it, thought I.) 

Pretending not to understand him, I inquired his 
meaning; for answer he exposed the butt-end of a re- 
volver. 

There’s one at your sarvice in the Captain’s cabin, if 
you’re nervous,” said he. If they attack me, they’ll not 
spare yonJ^ 

must take my chance,” I answered coldly, and went 

below. 

I scrambled into my bunk, and lay there witli an anx- 
ious heart, for, knowing what sort of spirit slumbered in- 
the breasts of the men, I was prepared at any moment to 
hear a scuffle, and find the brig in the hands of the crew. 
Moreover, I was much affected by the death of the lad, 
and shocked when I reflected upon his unceremonious 
consignment to the deep. The outrage of which the mate 
had been guilty came forcibly home whem^I thought of 
the boy’s youth, and his innocence of any deed to justify 
such murderous brutality. 1 pictured the men discussing 
the subject in the gloomy forecastle, the oaths with which 
their passion would make their language wild and fierce^ 
and their sinister threats one to another to avenge the lad. 


142 


LITTLE LOO. 


i » , 

Sentiment would seem to have no footing among sailors: 
yet does a certain rude species of it color -their thoughts, 
and they are often deeply moved by it. In the case of a 
pleasant shipmate falling overboard and losing his life, I 
have seen the crew subdued in manner, discarding their 
songs at the ropes, speaking in low tones, and whispering 
superstitious stories in the forecastle — this for a whole 
day together. They break from this useful mental atti- 
tude from fear of each other’s ridicule, and fly into an op- 
posite extreme of coarse chaff, foolish oath, and loud 
laughter. But all this is more forced than you would 
suspect. When a boy goes to school, to save himself from 
being jeered as a girl, he will swallow his sobs and talk 
with manly contempt of the mother, the sister, the kind 
old nurse, whose tenderness he will silently cry himself ta 
sleep over when the friendly darkness comes. Sailors are 
schoolboys, and to understand them you must recall the 
time when you were a little boy and got a reputation for 
manliness from your companions by pretending to despise 
things which are now your best memories. 

I began to hope, however, wheh next day came, 
and the men proceeded to their work without further 
challenge of the skippers intentions toward the mate 
far the murder of the boy (for murder it was, as 
heartless as a stab from a knife could have made it), 
that the matter would blow over, and the natural charac- 
ter of sailors assert itself in absolute heedlessness of all 
doings save those transacted in the passing minute. I 
watched them closely, but found no signs to interpret. 
Could I have gone into the forecastle and talked to them 
there, I might have been able to corkscrew a few of their 
ideas out of them; but that was forbidden ground to me 
now: forbidden, I mean, in the sense of that blunt under- 
standing which subsists between officers and crew: You’re 
free to come into the fok’sle, mister first or second mate, 
but if we knock you over the head, or strip and hoist you 
naked through the scuttle, or belay you to a chest with a 
nail through the seat of your overalls, you’ll understand 
it’s a way we have, and a privilege as old as the first En- 
glish ship’s company that ever went to sea.” Though the 
men liked me, I was not going to risk their tender fool- 
ing. It was one thing to hail them from the scuttle: 
another to drop into their den. 


LITTLE LOO. 


143 


Still, though I hoped for peace, I cannot say T felt sure 
of it. I did not much understand the passivity of the 
men. The most harmless fellows at sea are notoriously 
the loudest growlers. Now here were all hands obeying 
orders without a murmur, unpleasantly quiet among 
themselves, and asking the Captain no questions. 

I thought Banyard might be able to tell me what they 
were talking about in the forecastle. 

I don’t reckon they’re on their knees askin’ blessings 
on Old Windward and the skipper.” 

^‘They’re taking Young Joe’s death more coolly than I 
thought they would after the growl they gave the skipper 
last night.” 

^^So they are, so they are; and it’s the most sensible 
thing they can do.” 

Providing they do it.” 

True enough. Providing they do it.” 

"Whether because he was stubbmTi or not. Pendulum 
was a difficult man to talk to. I behoved him an honest 
man, however, and the only reliaoic nand on the brig. 

Banyard, Pm thinking of the girl in the cabin. I 
shouldn’t like any harm to come to her. I hope there’ll 
be no mutiny, for her sake.” 

Mutiny’s always a bad look-out. It runs agin all ship- 
shape notions, and ly^iev does good.” 

I don’t like jee the men so quiet. I’d rather, they 
would come aft and raise a hullabaloo, and blow off the 
steam in that way.” 

Well, it ’ud look better.” 

Is the cook much in the forecastle?” 

Well, he is. He’s pretty often there.” 

Just sound him, will you?” 

"je turned his eyes slowly on me, and shook his head. 

You take my advice; don’t consarn yourself with 
yhat ain’t your business. I ain’t goin’ to sound no man. 
And my advice to you is, keep yourself to yourself. If i. 
^Titiny comes, let' them as brought it on take the conse- 
qiiences. Nothen to do with me, and don’t let it be nothei 
t^do with you, mate.” 

6o saying, he shambled away from my side, after be- 
stowing another ominous shake of the head on me. That 
was all the satisfaction I got out of Banyard, who, stupid 


144 


LITTLE LOO. 


as I thought him, had nevertheless given me enough advice 
to make me thoughtful for myself. 

Miss Franklin remained in her cabin all day. I took it 
that she had quarreled with her brother, or was too much 
upset by the painful scene of the boy’s death to care to 
come to the table. The Captain was quiet, but the sin- 
ister impassiveness of the men seemed to cause him no 
alarm. This gave me a poor opinion of his judgment, 
fhe mate, on the other hand, blustered loudly. I heard 
urn, when I was on deck, boasting, as he and the Captain 
.at at dinner, of his power ovCr ships’ crews. 

They think to frighten me at first,” said he, and he 
qioke loud enough to be overheard by Beauty Blunt, who 
was steering; but one taste of my fist is^a dose of physic 
-they never care to swaller twice. Lord save ye, Captain, 
it don’t do to be frightened. I didn’t mean to kill the 
'')oy, but since he’s gone, let it stand for a good job, say I. 
It’s like hanging up a scarecrow — it’s acautionTo ’em — it’s 
teaching of ’em my motto, death or obedience — do what I 
tell ye, or I’ll break your head! That’s the talk for them 
to understand, and I reckon they know my meaning by 
this time. They’re as brisk as fleas this blessed day, and 
quiet as alligators asleep on mud.” 

I did not catch the skipper’s answer to this speech, but 
there was certainly no reproach, no reprimand in the tone 
of his voice. 

The blood is on your own heads,” thought I, turning 
away, after stealing a glance at Beauty, who stood look-- 
ing at the compass with a dark scowl upon his ill-favored 
iace 

We had now got The S.E. trades broad on our port- 
bow, and with the yards hard against dh^ lee-rigging and 
the leeches of the royals shivering like flags in a breeze* 
of wind, we breasted the crested rollers of the South At- 
lantic. 

A few days after the death of the apprentice, an acci- 
dent befell me— an occurrence often chronicled at sea, 
Milt rarely related by the man who experiences it, for a 
very obvious reason. 

The Captain was walking to windward, a hand nick- 
named Savings was at the wheel, and Miss Franklin 
turned the pages of a book on the lee side of the com- 
panion. The watch were occupied aloft, and about the 


LITTLE LOO. 


145 


decks. Though the brig walked ivell, witlr the wind 
shaving her, she was not looking up into it this day as 1 
considered she should. The main sail was choke full, a 
white hemisphere, curving a graceful semicircle from the 
tack to the yard-arm; but the royals rattled overhead as 
if the brig were incessantly on the point of going about 
and thinking better of it. Before tallying the men on to 
the braces, f sprang on to the bulwark, holding on to the 
main royal back-stay, and ran my eye up the leaning pil- 
lar of sail. An accident at sea happens in an instant. A 
man stretches from the rigging and swings himself by 
some running gear: the end is hot fast, and, with the 
rope in his hand, he falls smash upon the deck. Or he* 
lays out along a yard: a sudden jerk scrapes tlie footrope 
from under his feet, and he whizzes through the air, and 
is gone forever. 

What happened to me was effected so instantaneously 
that I have no notion how it came about: one moment I 
was poised upon the bulwark, looking aloft; the next I 
was under water, with an uproar of tliiinder in my ears. 

It was chrious that whilst I remained under water my 
sensations were a profound conviction that was in a 
dream. I liad no fear, for I did not believe in the reality 
of my position. Whether I was slightly stuniied by the 
blow from the water, or that the mind is incapable of im- 
mediately receiving the sense of an abrupt change of con- 
dition, it is certain tliat my feelings were as I describe. I 
rose to the surfa.ce, and, with the first breath of fresh air, 
I took in all the horrors of my situation. The waves, 
which looked moderate enough from the deck of the brig, 
were so many hurling mountains all around me. Lifted 
on the summit of ane, I could see the brig ho\e-up, her 
jib-sheets flowing and bow-lines let go; and a group of 
men near the lee quarter-boat. Then down I went into 
the (to me) immeasurable hollow between the seas, with 
the green water like the walls of a house sloping atvay on 
eitlier hand, and the sky a dim vague space of light over- 
head. What made my heart sick and almost paralyzed 
my arms was the distance at which the brig stood. Just 
now I was on board of her; and there she was, so far off 
that tlie men at the quarter-boat were no bigger than my 
thumbs. 

Could I keep myself afloat until the boat measured the 


146 


L1TTL5 LOO. 


interval that; separated me from the brig? I was a fair 
swimmer, yet the sense of the profound depths over which 
I hung, the roaring of the foaming waters, now over my 
liead, now around me: my own littleness in the wide world 
of moving green ..and froth, were so dismaying, that my 
will failed me, my energies expired, nothing but the me- 
chanical instinct of life kept my arms swaying and my 
head above water. Swung suddenly to the height of a 
tall sea, I spied, not fifty yards away, a circle of yellow — 
a life-buoy, which some one must have flung overboard a 
few seconds after I had fallen. As I sunk from tlm roar- 
ing height into the horrible chasm, my mind, vivified by 
the sight of the life-buoy, went to work, and I ploLted 
'how I should reach it. It was to windward; every sea 
that lifted it would bring it nearer: no longer, therefore, 
swimming with my face to the brig, I confronted the buoy, 
and struck out with all my power, not with the intention 
of swimming up to it, but in order that I might lose as 
little ground as possible from the powerful send of the 
seas. Sometimes the crest of a wave broke over me, 
smothering me in a whirl of froth in which J sputtered 
and squattered and sank; breatiiless, and shaking the hair 
and water out of my eyes, I buckled to the steadying 
process again, and after five minutes of agonizing labor, I 
caught the buoy as it came rushing down upon the top of 
a sea. In a second I had slipped my arms through it, 

■ and rode safe, breast high out of water. 

* By this time they had lowered the quarter-boat and were 
pulling steadily toward me. I watched her with dreadful 
anxiety as she was now raised his*h, with the foam standing 
around her, now disappearing from my sight, now emerg- 
ing again, the face of the man steering her growing more 
distinct every moment. I saw him wave his hand; but if 
he saluted me with any encouraging shout I no more heard 
him than ha'd I been leagues below the horizon: the boiling 
of the water all around was deafening, and the spray that 
constantly broke over me filled my ears and mouth, and 
kept me spitting and choking so violently that a very short 
time would have found me a corpse. 

The boat approached, rising and falling to windward, 
Some careful maimuvering was now required; but, half- 
dead as I was, I had stilhseuse enough to exult over the 
skill with which Little Welchy, who steered the boat, 


LITTLE LOO. 


U7 


handled her. He put her head to the sea, and let her 
drive stern on down upon me, helping her now and again 
with a dip of the oars. 

In a few moments she was alongside; the same sea let 
us fall into one hollow. As we rose together I was 
grabbed by four pairs of hands, and hauled, sobbing, 
retching, and streaming, into the boat where I lay, as 
weak as a kitten. 

The regaining of the brig was a nasty job, and an ardu- 
ous one, as the boat was to leeward, and had to be 
rowed in the face of the tumbling rollers. At times she 
was pitched half-out of water, and then it seemed im- 
possible that she could escape being swamped by the arch-' 
ing wave that ran like a steam-engine at her. 

It took the four men, rowing their hardest, half-an- 
hour to bring the boat alongside: and here again it was 
touch and go with us all, for when the boat was hoisted 
midway, a sea struck her and started a couple of her bot- 
tom planks, and in another instant would have unhooked 
the bowtackle and left her hanging stern down. 

Too weak to walk, I was assisted by a couple of the men 
to my cabin: my clothes were removed, my body rubbed 
dry, and a caulker of hot brandy administered. Snug in 
my bunk, I offered a solemn thanksgiving to God for iny 
preservation, and fell fast asleep. When I awoke two> 
hours afterward, I was hearty enough to get up and go on 
deck. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

MY PRESERYEll. 

At sea no fuss is made over an incident of this kind. 
The sole comment uttered by the skipper upon it was. 
For the future, get a better hold; Pm not going to risk 
my masts for greasy hands, and as the rigging isn’t limed, 
you’d better double up your lingers next time you catch 
at it.” ^ 

The mate offered no observation at all. Had I fallen 
overboard in his watch, probably he would have given me 
a cursing for giving him the trouble to stop the brig 
and lower a boat. 


148 


LITTLE LOO. 


Such manners may seem incredible, or mere exaggera- 
tion, to many; but no man who has been to sea in all 
sizes of vessels wi41 dispute the truth of my picture. 
However, if the accident impressed nobody else, it affected 
me. Indeed, I was much nearer being drowned than was 
supposed, or than I liked to admit to myself. A life-buoy 
will not keep a man alive long when seas are breaking 
over him, and I was pretty sure that another 4en minutes 
would have settled my accojint with this world. In con- 
sequence I was as serious as a ghost, and when I came on 
deck. at eight o’clock in the e\^ning to, stand my watch 
till midnight, I was in as melancholy and sentimental a 
temper as ever I remember being troubled with. 

But for that life-buoy, where would you have been 
now?” thought I to myself, looking at the dark water 
astern, throbbing near at hand, with the white play of the 
wave-crests, and fading into gloom under the starry heav- 
ens. A corpse, Jack! a pale, floating, dressed-up phan- 
tom, hanging midway in a thousand fathoms of water, 
butted by the noses of fish, large and small, surrounded by 
vague circles of luminous eyes wondering at your ugliness 
and smelling to your flavor — all about you a dead calm. 
God, what silence! deep as that which reigned ere this 
globe of earth was wrought out of chaos, with never an 
echo to reacii you of the mightiest gale that should swirl 
and harass the roof of the transparent dominion in the 
heart of which you lie!” Pleasant reflection! I looked 
up at the stars. Thank God for the privilege of seeing 
you still!” whispered I, a la Manfred, only with reverent 
gratitude. 

Miss Franklin came out of the cabin, and advanced 
straight to me. 

have not had an opportunity before now of telling 
you how grateful I am that your life is preserved. I was 
on deck when you fell overboard — indeed, I was looking 
at you when you fell. Was the shock greater to you than 
to me, I wonder? It was a dreadful thing to see, and the 
cry the man at the wheel gave was an awful sound!” 

A sailor has as many lives as a cat. Miss Franklin.” 

^^If he had ninety-nine lives he would have none to 
spare. I thought the sea tiresome at first: but I find out 
that it is rather too exciting. You must have wonderful 
strength and nerves to be keeping watch and talking 


LITTLE LOO. 149 

lightly after such an accident. Are you obliged to be on 
deck?’^ * 

I have to keep my watch/’ I replied. 

‘^Biit if you do not feel equal to it, I will tell my 
brother, and insist upon his allowing you to remain in 
your cabin all night.” 

‘^•You are very good and thoughtful; but I am really 
none the worse for^my ducking. Perhaps I am a little 
depressed; most men are apt to be so after a wrestle with 
death. But then I own to yoit what I would tell nobody 
else. We ara not supposed to have hearts or feelings at 
sea. If ojie is killed, there’s an end. If not killed, then 
a miss is as good as a mile, and one is laughed at for re- 
ferring to the escape.” 

Why are sailors so hard-hearted?” 

^‘'I don’t think they are hard-hearted. The vice is an 
assumed one. They overstrain their ideas of manliness. 
But the softest among tliem is but a rough creature, and 
I don’t wonder at ladies disliking them.” 

She was silent, keeping her eyes fixed on the deck; 
presently, — 

I thought the boat would never reach you. Oh, how 
madly impatient I felt whilst watching them!” 

I should have perished if it had not been for the life- 
buoy thrown to me.” 

I did that!” she exclaimed, looking up at me. 

‘^You!” 

Yes. There was one on what you call the grating. I 
loosed it, and threw it overboard almost as soon as I saw 
you fall.” 

Then I owe inyOife to you.” 

To me!” she cried, with a note of glad surprise in 
her voice. 

Most surely to you; for had the life-buoy been thrown 
a minute later, it would have fallen -out of my reach — I 
should not have had the strength to swim to it against 
the heavy seas.” 

Thank God, then, for my presence of mind !” she said. 

I was touched by the thought that my salvation was 
owing to the hand I loved; to the brave smartness of the 
girl who'had come into my heart. Actions and silence 
will express thought, and inspirations may be delivered 
by a gesture, a movement of the head, by vehicles the 


150 


LITTLE LOO, 

most uniiotewortlay. I believe at that moment, without- 
opening my lips, I told her that I Toved her; and I am 
persuaded that at that moment slie discovered my love. 
How was this effected? how could I be positive? liow 
could I read her thoughts, and she mine, by no better 
light tlian the pale glimmer that fell from the stars? 

She turned away and looked at the sea over the stern. 
I took a turn along the deck and met her as I came back. 

Mr. Chadburn,” said she, ^Mvhat do you think will 
be the result of Mr. Sloe’s bad treatment of the men?” 

I will answer you frankly. If Mr. Sloe does not re« 
form, the men will mutiny.” 

You mean they will refuse to work?” 

That is one kind of mutiny.” 

What do you fear?” 

I made her no answer. She put her hand in a child- 
like '\yay on my arm, and drew me from the skylight. 

You frighten me!” she exclaimed. ‘MVhat do you 
fear?” 

If the men turn, they will say, ^ We may as well suffer 
-for much as for little.’ ” 

How are they to be won over?” 
scaicely know how to answer you. Undoubtedly,. 
Captain Franklin is acting injudiciously in passing over 
the mate’s murder of the boy.” 

That is what I told him!” she exclaimed in a breath- 
less voice. “1 said, " The mate has acted with shocking 
cruelty — the men expect that you will punish him;’ and 
his answer was, ^ I do not care for the men, Mr. Sloe is 
the proper man for them, and more competent than I am 
to keep them in order.’” 

You will understand, Miss Franklin, that I feel some 
delicacy in discussing your brother’s conduct — ” 

‘‘'But why?” she interrupted. “You have? a right ta 
express yourself. We are not all to be frightened into 
holding our tongues.” 

“ The captain of a vessel can do what he likes. Hobod j 
must question his authority,” 

“ Do you mean to say that he may kill boys, if he likes?” 
she cried, opening her eyes. 

I could not help laughing as I answered, “ Of course he 
is amenable to the law ashore; but I don’t know what is 


LITTLE LOO. 


151 


to stop hifn from killing boys at sea, if the crew don’t rise 
against him/’ 

Oh, Mr. Ohadbnrn; what can you see to amuse you ’ 
in such cruelty? You ought to reason with my brother,” 

And- were I to ^do so, to-morrow you would see me a 
forecastle man again, singled out for the hardest and 
dirtiest jobs. JSTo remonstrance on my part, believe me, 
would do any good.” ; ' 

Don’t you think you could get the men to patiently 
endure Mr. Sloe’s bad treatment until they arrived in 
Sydney?” 

If any good can be done by putting in a word now and 
then, you may trust me to do so,” said I. I wonder 
that Captain Franklin does not consider tlie perilous posi- 
tion he may place you in by allowing his mate to ex- 
asperate the crew.” 

He came on deck as I spoke these words. Standing at - 
the companion, and peering at us, he cried out, — 

^MVbo is that?” 

Are there other Indies on board, that you cannot tell 
who I am?” siie answered pettishly. 

‘^Come into the cabin!” he exclaimed angrily. 

She wished me good-night, and walked leisurely to the 
•companion. I heard her say, with an indignjSit sob in 
her voice, — 

You address me as if I were one of the crew.” 

Directly she had^one below he marched up to me. 

Haven’t you been to sea^ long enough to know that 
you have no right to be . gossiping when you are on 
duty?” 

Miss Franklin was congratulating me on my escape 
to-day.” 

‘•What’s that to do with it? I leave the brig in your 
hands, and expect vou’ll attend to your work. What else 
did m; iss Franklin say?” 

^^'Why, since you ask me, sir, she agrees with me that 
the safety of the brig is imperiled by Mr, Sloe’s brutal-^ 
ity.” 

What’s that to do with you or her?” he thundered. - 

Did I bring you out of the "fok’sle to discuss my affairs? 
By if there’s a mutiny, I shall know who’s at the bot- 
tom of iti I don’t like your tricks, sir! You were among 
the men when that mutinous little hound drew his knife 


152 


LITTLE LOO, 


upon me the other day, and having done your^ work for- 

rard, yon have brought your d spirit of mischief aft,. 

have you? Be careful P he shouted. The voyage isn’t 
done yet. All you liave to do is to mind your business^ 
and obey orders, d’ye hear? If you don’t, you’ll' find me 
a clever rascal! I’ll haze you! I’ll make you sing out !’^ 
He came rearing and swelling himself so close to me 
that involuntarily I threw myself into a defensive posture. 
However, all this abuse was mere stilt-work; he towered 
it over me in the hopes of making me afraid of him. But- 
I had a strong motive to remain aft, and this kept me 
silent; seeing which, and perhaps imagining that he had 
produced tiie impression he meant to make, he crossed the 
deck and lighted a cigar. There he remained in solitary 
state, pacing the deck regularly up to half-past eleven 
o’clock. 


OHAPTEE XXVIL 

TO LEEWAED OE THE GALLEY. 

The days passed, and the brig drew to the southward,, 
new .teinjierature marking her progress, new stars climb- 
ing from the horizon across her bows. In the regular 
trade gales,. one day was hke another, the brig dragging 
her channels through the Vater, all sad on.liQr, the upper 
leeches quivering, the lee-ri^ging slack, and to windward 
taut as bars of iron. The doping deck, the hoarse rush- 
ing of the water on the lee-side, the lee portholes glim- 
mering green in the water that buried them, the long 
grumble-of the timbers as the brig strided the regular seas, 
were familiar matters, like the grinding of the screw in 
a steam-ship. No change of weather varied the scene; 
overhead were always the white clouds rolling away to the 
north-west, over a deep blue ground, and the sea, an eter- 
nal space of green, covered with rushing waves breaking 
-to windward in lines of snow far as the horizon. 

•Xow and again the trades freshening into a gale set us 
clewing up the royals, and once or twice we stood by the 
top-gallant halyards, but never let them go. Both skipper 
and mate packed it on the brig; and such a s'3a-jockey was 
old Windward that, when the extra puffs came, and the 
vessel was burying her chain-plates so that you could have 


LITTLE LOO. 


153 


touched the water to leeward by hanging your arm over 
the bulwark, he would stamp about the deck like a mad- 
man, chafing his hands, casting his malevolent eyes aloft, 
and orjing out in his ecstasies all sorts of applause to the 
rusliing vessel — Trip through it, old bucket!’’ Creak 
and hold, old frother!” Smother and burst, sweet- 
heart!” precisely as if she were a live thing and would 
sail the better for his compliments. 

The skipper, loss excitable, was nevertheless well pleased 
with the progress the vessel was_^ making. ^N'othing that 
I ever was on board of spanked it more smartly, close- 
hauled, than the Little Loo, She was a brig to creep to 
windward with the sureness of an iceberg and the speed 
of a bird. Such runs as we were making told heavily on 
our southing; we dropped parallel after parallel, averaging 
a full two-hundred-and'fifty sea miles every noon. 

Meanwhile all was quiet with the men. 

One second dog-watch I came on deck to smoke a pipe 
in the waist. It was not possible to get a match to burn 
in the draught that rushed slanting from the mainsail, so 
I stepped into the galley. 

The galley is the kitchen of the ship. Here in tke cop- 
pers are cooked the pork and the beef served to the men, 
each mess of meat simmering along with the label of the 
watch to which it belongs. Here you see the cook at 
dinner-time pronging the coppers and bringing out the 

dull ’’—the sea-puddings — with which the men are re- 
galed on alternate days, sometimes once a week, for all 
crews do not fare alike. These ^^dufis” are flour and 
water, as hard as chalk, and as nice: the compound is 
boiled in canvas bags, but I have seen stockings do duty in 
the absence of proper bags, and the ‘^^duff ” forked out of 
the boiling water in the pleasing shape of a foot and leg. 

The coolc was on the forecastle: a bit of fire lived in the 
grate, and lighting my pipe at it, I was going away, when 
I heard the voices of some men sheltering themselves from 
the wind on the lee side of the galley. 

The voice then speaking was Deacon’s: what he was 
saying arrested me. 

. . Sixty thousand, I tell you. Did you ever see 
sixty thousand pounds’ worth of gold, Jim?” # 

See it? no.” 

I opened one of the bags to have a look. There was 


LITTLE LOO. 


154 

poly a thousand in it, but that’s a sum to make a wise 
man squint like a lunatic when it’s all before him in naked 
sovereigns. Think of dipping your hand in, far as your 
wrist, and feeling the hard yellow-boys slippery and clean 
against your skin. The Australian pound’s yellower than 
the English sovereign. It looks real gold. It hasn’t such 
a handsome stamp, but I like the color, Jim.” 

Just you fill my pockets wi’ ’em. I reckon I’ll not 
speak agin the color.” 

But the bar-gold, mate! did you ever see a bar of 
gold?” 

You ax’d me that afore! I said no. Where the blazes 
should I see bar-gold? d’ye think I wur born in a mine?” 

When we carried them away from the beach, I put 
them into Tommy’s arms, eight of them at a time — neither 
of us could hold more. AYhen I put one more on to try 
him, his arms gave, and down they dropped; Tommy was 
a middling strong man too.” 

. I’d like to keep as many as I could carry away; I lay 
there’d be a trifle missin’,” here said a third voice, the 
surliness of which betokened it as Liverpool Sam’s. 

Let me git hold o’ some o’ them bars — Idl tell you 
what ’ud happen,” said voice number two: ^^I’d keep a 
public. That’s bin my notion o’ livin’ proper ever since I 
wur three foot|tall. IJdon’t want no blazin’ glass and flowers, 
and gals with curls on their foreheads neglectin’ of cus- 
tomers vilst they vastes their time up in a corner o’ the 
bar along with gents dressed up to the hammer in a ha’- 
porth o’ finery. Snugness is my principle, with a free- 
an’-heasy every night, where sailors can drink and sing 
without h i n terf er e n ce. ” 

There’s too many clean shirt days in that kind o’ life 
to please me,” growled old Sam. My notion o’ comfort 
is a house without a staircase, a feather bed, a harm-cheer 
which draws out for the legs, with a public handy up the 
street, a garden behind to sit in on Sundays, and some 
’spectable sailors to converse .with ven you’re dull.” 

'^Sammy’s notions ain’t bad,” exclaimed voice number 
three; ‘^but give me the theayter. If there’s any 
brass to come to me, see wot I’d do: I’d buy a theayter; 
the music in it ’ud be all done by fiddles; no d — — trum- 
pets and long-vinded toones for me, mates; you’d hear 
nothing but proper nautical music, somethin’ as ’ud 


LITTLE LOO. 


155 


keep your feet agoiii^ vilst you listened, and bring your*^ 
voice into your mouth with with lawful excitement, 
rd hire tip-top gals to dance, and dance myself — 
see if I wouldn^t. Therekl be no actin’; nothin’ but 
dancin’. And if there wur any sailors in the pit, or else- 
wheers, as could dance, they should be velcorne to jiixe. 
That’s my notion. I knows wot it is to sit and watch the 
gals dancin’, anid long to jine ’em, and afeared to move. 
Only, no d — — trumpets — nothen but fiddles for me.” 

It’s all possible,” said Deacon. 

Afraid that one of them might step round for a light 
and catch me listening, I left the galley, rather surprised, 
after the fuss Deacon had made over his secret when tell- 
ing it to me, that he should now be taking the crew into 
his confidence. 

Perhaps the whole yarn was a fabrication after all. 
Only, lies presuppose a motive, and here was none to be 
discovered at all. Tliis was the consideration that shook 
my confidence in my own judgment. 

I said to myself, There is no reason loliy this story 
should be a lie; he can have no motive in propagating it, 
and acting up to the character it imposes. If it be true, 
his behavior is consistent, and it is reasonable that he 
should cast aside his reserve and take his shipmates into 
his confidence, because he cannot remove the gold without 
help, and the best men for him are the first at hand.” 

But all this was nothing to me: my thoughts went 
further. He had proposed to me to seize the brig. Sup- 
pose he made the same proposal to the men? Bad treat- • 
ment had made tinder of their souls; and here was a live 
spark to eat deep, a reason for rising, a brilliant end to 
be attained, and the means sweetened by the revenge it 
involved. 

But it was all a speculation, these thoughts of mine. 

I was not a man to harass my mind Avith mere possibilities. 

I knocked the ashes out of my pipe and regained the cabin, 
on the whole more amused than alarmed by the ooiiver- 
sation I had overheard. 


156 


LITTLE LOO. 


CHAPTER XXYIIL 

THE MUTINY. 

Oh the 20fcli of August our Longitude was 82*^ 4' E., 
and our Latitude 29^ 17/ S. 

The” brave Southeasters had failed us, and we were now 
to carny any slants we might catch round the Cape of 
Good Hope, and pray for what following winds should be 
sent us to breeze the Little Loo along the eight or nine 
thousand miles of Pacific Ocean that remained to be 
traversed before the Sydney coast rose gray and desolate 
under the flying jibboom. 

At noon, on this day. the brig’s course was altered to 

E.S.E. 

Whilst the crew were squaring the yards, the men who 
tallied on the main-braces were signaled by Deacon from 
the wheel: he held his finger up. “The gesture was in- 
stantaneous, but my e 3 ^es were on him by chance at the 
moment. I went aft, under pretense of examining the 
compass card. 

What did that signal mean?” I inquired in a low 
voice. 

What signal?” 

You put your finger up to the men.” 

^^Didl?” 

‘MVhat did it mean?” 

^MYotild you like to know?” 

I glanced askant at his face, and detected a lurking 
grin. 

This is not the course to Teapy,” said I. ^ 

Yes it is,” he answered, if we hold on long enough. 
But what has that got to do with my finger?” 

The movement excited my curiosit}^” I replied care- 
lessly. 

was feeling the wind,” said he; didn’t you see me 
put hi y finger into my mouth first?” 

^‘Xo.” / ^ 

‘‘ Then before you judge of things, see all that belongs 
to them, or you’ll go astray.” 

There was no positive rudeness in the way he said this. 


^ LITTLE LOO. 157 

though the least alteration of tone would have\made the 
speech insolent. 

‘^1 hope/’ I exclaimed earnestly, ^Hhat you’ll think 
twice before you act. There’s no wealtli in this world 
that may not cost more to get than its worth.” 

^'You have no cause to fear any want of reflection in 
me,” he answered, as I moved away, noticing that he 
strongly accentuated the word ‘‘you.”- 

As the afternoon advanced, the wind grew faint. Stud- 
ding sail-booms were rigged out, and the sails set, and 
under a cloud of canvas the brig swam quietly forward, 
rolling grandly over the large swell that came gleaming up 
from the south’ard. 

A little before four o’clock a vessel hove in sight on the 
starboard bow: 1 examined her through the glass, and 
found her a large screw steamer, apparently a man-of-war, 
her topgallant- mast housed, no canvas showing, her hull 
black, and the column of froth at her cutwater shivering 
in the sunshine like a jewel on an Indian’s f(>i’ehead. She 
drew close rapidly: spots of red on her foi^castle spoke her 
a troop-ship— if from India, then giving the Cape a wide 
berth. 

There is always something delightful in a sailor’s eye in 
the neatness, strength, and finish of a man-of-war’s spars 
and rigging. The wide spread of black shrouds, the mass- 
ive yards, the big tops, the white^ line of hammocks, the 
great looming bows that seem to lift themselves above the 
sea, as if in disdain of the challenge of waves, and the 
churning of foam under the. counter, formed a noble 
picture. . ^ 

We hoisted the ensign, ready to dip to her as she passed 
— for this is the way ships bow to each other, and the 
merchantman is bound to pull off hie hat (in this fashion) 
to^ every British man-of-w\ir he meets on the high seas — 
and up, in response to our courtesy, ran the milky folds 
of the glorious St. George’s Cross, symbol dear to English- 
men, and one that gives a leaping pulse to his blood, as 
the strains of “Eule Britanfiia ” do, or the hearty tune 
of “ Cheer, Boys, Cheer.” A fellow in the main top danced 
a hornpipe to our honor as we passed, and the sight of 
our red ensign set the soldiers flourishing hats and hand- 
kerchiefs; and just as she liad drawn on our quarter, her 
band struck up a waltz — a fine clashing melody came across 


158 


LITTLE LOO, 


the water to ns, thinning and fining down as her full grew 
narrower, her mast smaller, until silence fell on the sea 
again, and she was a black spot on the horizon. 

For the first time that day Miss Franklin came on deck, 
and lingered, gazing wistfiiily at the ship, until miles of 
water had been put between us; she then went below 
again. Our eyes met, and she smiled, but had nothing 
to say. T concluded that her brother had forbidden her 
to speak to me; I further believed that he had prohibited 
her from coming on deck when he was absent from it. 
Certainly her actions tallied with these conjectures, but 
then her pride would not permit her to own that her 
brother was only a little less -despotic to her than he, was 
to me. So even the small credit I had given him of hav» 
ing a soft heart for his sister I now withdrew. I thought 
him as great a brute in his own cold fashion as Old Wind- 
ward was in his demonstrative one, and much I hated him, 
believe me, for denying me the only happiness, that kept 
me fresh under a system of discipline as tyrannous as ever 
came under the i;otiee of a Liverpool police magistrate in 
the shape of a Yankee skipper and the men he had 
maimed for life. 

When I came on deck at twelve o’clock that night, a 
dead calm had fallen. There was no moon, and yet so 
splendid was the glory of the stars, that the light of them 
in the double beauty they shone with from the heavens 
on high, and in ihe sweeping silken surface of the sea, 
filled the air with a mild luster, so that the furthest 
reaches of the ocean were discernible, and the loftiest rig- 
ging of the brig plain as the interlacing boughs of a tree 
in moonlight. Tltfe Southern Cross hung in all the serene 
silver beauty of its* orbs over the horizon, an emblem of 
the Christian fMth planted by God’s own hand over the 
secret lands of the Pacific. 

ISTow and again the silence was broken by the melodious 
gurgle of water as the brig sank her stem to the hollowing 
swell; the sails flapped faintly, and the wheel-chains rat- 
tled upon the iron sheaves., of the blocks. There was a 
muffled murmur of voices forward — an unusual sound at 
such an hour — and I was half tempted to creep to the 
scutti'e to' hear the subject that kept the crew awake and 
gossiping; but Pendulum’s dull recommendation to me 
to keep myself to myself held me to my quarters. 


LITTLE LOO. 


159 


A fueling of uneasiness was excited in nie^ nevert-lieless. 
These dead and solemn nights at sea strain the nerves; 
the surrounding immensity strikes a supreme sense of 
loneliness into the heart; you seem to hear mysterious 
‘undertones in the air, mutterings indefinable by the ma- 
terial ear, yet sounding upon the exquisite retina of the 
fancy, breathing like the vexed echoes of vanished gales. 

I went to the quarter and looked ovei*. A curious mid* 
tiie^ht visitor had oozed out of the caverns of tlie deep to 
take the air and have a look at the weather. A whale — 
like the hull of a ship, keel up — had blown his water not 
a biscuit’s throw from the brig. rSTo words can ex[)reS'S 
the dreary, gasping, panting, hollow noise made by the 
leviatlian as it discharged its liquid burden against the 
stars. Presently, close under the bows, another whale 
blew; then close under the stern another, then two more 
away on the right. Had they mistaken the bottom of the 
brig for a kinsman, and risen to disgorge their juices en 
famine? Here was sport, had we been a whaler, fe’oon 
these harmless monsters of the deep had blown their last: 
they sank out of sight, and I and the man at the wheel 
were once more alone. 

This individual was Savings — a derisive nickname for a 
man Avho had shipped i:he most poorly provided of us all 
with clotlies, and had as easy a trick of borrowing and for- 
getting as any Irish major. He was accounted? a stupid 
man by the crew, and often joked upon, and sometimes 
pommelled. 

For instance, he was caught asleep one niglit with one 
leg of his trousers off and the other on; the men cut the 
off leg short at the knee, and stitched it up; then, bang- 
ing on the scuttle, they called all hands: and great was 
the mirth when Savings (wlio had a lively fear of the 
mate), finding tliat he could do nothing with his trousers, 
pitched them away, and sprang on deck in his shirt tails., 
A practical joke is like a stone set rolling down-hill; start 
it, and you shall never foresee the adventures it sliall effect 
before it comes to a stop. So in this case: Old AVi Ho- 
ward, catching siglit of the semi-nude seaman, conceived 
that he had siiown himself in this figuro to mock him; 
he gave chase; Savings fiew rouncT' the deck, and ' barely 
preserved himself from a kicking by tumbling headlong 
througli the scuttle. 


160 


LITTLE LOO. 


What’s keeping tlie men awake in the forecastle^ do 
you know?” I asked him. 

Talkin’ o’ their sweethearts, p’r’aps,” said he, grin- 
ning in my face, and then expectorating behind his hand. 

^‘And what else, I wonder?” 

And I wonder. Master, could ’ee lend us a chew o’ 
baccy? Thought I had a quid i’ the lining o’ my cap 
when I come to the wheel, but Jimmy must ha’ stole it.” 

1 handed him a pinch from my pouch, and he thrust 
the delicacy into his cheek. * 

What’s keeping the men jawing at this hour, Sav- 
ings?” 

I’ll lay it’s Sniggers spinning his yarns.” 

About the island and the gold?” 

Why, yes! has he been aft with it? Ain’t it a 
bloomin’ fancy? If I wur made o’ blubber, master, I’d 
turn to and swim to that island.” 

And jnuch you’d get by the voyage. Why, you don’t 
believe what Sniggers says, do you?” 

Yes, I do, then,” lie answered emphatically: every 
word of it. Why, I see the noosepaper in which it’s all 
wrote down. Sniggers read it to all hands.” 

^^Do the hands believe it?” 

Eatherl it ain’t so rum a thing as that it couldn’t ha’ 
happened. Look what things is found in sharks. I don’t 
take no Recount myself o’ buttons and boots and panni- 
kins, and 1;he likes o’ that; but I seed with my own eyes 
a bag o’ ’Merican dollars drawed out of a shark’s inside, 
once, rale coin, and every man got one for hisself, and 
there was more left for the passengers to keep as curios.” 

^^Are the men going to help Deacon to recover the 
money?” 

know nothen about that,” he replied, wdth a quick 
change of manner; ye’d better ask ’em.” 

I dropped the subject and left him, not choosing to 
press more questions, lest he should go and tell the men I 
had been trying to pump him. Much as I hated the mate, 
I thought I would give him a hint when he came on deck. 
Accordingly, on his showing himself at eight bells, I said 
to him, ‘‘ There’s mischief brewing forward, I think, and 
it wiir^ behoove you to keep a sharp look-ouc.” 

Whg-t’s doing there?” he asked, receiving my state- 
ment in a less offensive manner than I had expected. 


LITTLE LOO. 161 

^‘All hands have been awake and talking together 
throughout the watch.” 

And wliat more?” 

That’s all, sir.” 

^^Are yon afraid of that?” he shouted. ^MYhat tlie 
deuce odds if they talk together all through the night? 
the wheljis are not obliged to turn in! there’s nothing in 
the articles to compel them to sleep, is there? Let ’em 
growl among themselves and welcome: but if they bring 
their cheek aft, then it’s this and this for em!” and he 
struck the palm of his left hand heavily with his fist. 

You shall know more about them than I, if you 
please,” thought I, as I went below; but it occurred to 
me, all the same, tliat the long conference that had been 
going on was too unusual to be worthless as a suggestion. 

The cabin in which I lay was close against the ])Mntry. 
Scum, though a tolerable cook, was a bad butler, and ill- 
adapted to the storage of crockery. Constantly, there- 
fore, was I subjected to the nuisance of the jingling of 
plates and dishes as the brig rolled. When I turned in 
now, I found this jarring and clatter detestable, for it 
played upon my irritated nerves and upon my ears, which 
maddened at so paltry an obstacle to clear hearing. 

To speak the truth, I flung myself into my bed with a 
fluttering alarm upon me that deserves my contempt. My 
imagination made a fool of me. The droning that had 
been going on in the forecastle all through my watch was 
basis enough for fancy to pile its agony on. Then there 
was that mysterious signal made by Deacon to the men. 
Then there was a sullen and reserved attitude exhibited by 
the crew ever since the night on which the apprentice lad 
had died. Then there was that story of Deacon to be re- 
membered, an undermining, influencing agency, potent in 
its eloquence of gold, working among the men like a 
decisive voice to give uniformity to their moods, that first 
condition of successful rebellism. 

All these things were in my mind, and kept me think- 
ing hard and listening hard. 

Something was at hand, I believed. No man’s instincts 
rear their heads and fork their tongues, like disturbed 
serpents, in one direction in the gloom of con jecture, unless 
some enemy be there to attract them. Yet sleep was 


162 


LITTLE LOO. 


heavier than apprehension, and I was presently snoring, 
with no part of my dress removed. 

I must have fallen asleep with my nerves exposed, as in 
wax models of the human conformation, or what less noise 
than the crash of the brig’s bottom upon a rock, or a 
thunderbolt smiting her, could have sent me flying sheer 
out of my slumber on to the deck. 

What was it? a pistol shot? 

In a moment came a loud cry and groan close at hand, 
immediately followed by a shrill scream. That soiiiid 
upon me was like touching a nerve-pulp with caustic. I 
sprang out of my cabin. 

The morning light lay broad on the glass ot the sky- 
light. Some three or four men were surging and swaying 
half in and half out of the captain’s cabin; and close to 
my own cabin stood Miss Franklin, cowering and shivering 
and stooping — looking like a corpse in the act of falling 
prone. 

I seized her by the arm, and not until she felt my hand 
did she remove her fascinated eye from what was going 
forward in the caj^tain’s cabin. 

Come with me!” I cried, and half carrying, half drag- 
ging her, I conveyed her to my cabin. Stop here until 
I come to you. Here is the key of the door. Lock your- 
self in.” 

^^They have killed my brother!” she shrieked. 

I closed the door upon her, and ran to the men. They 
were coming out of the captain’s cabin, and bore the skip- 
per’s motionless body among them. Beauty liad him by 
an arm, Jimmy held his legs, andfOld Sam clasped him 
round the waist; a fourth man pushed behind; and thuy 
were all as silent as executioners. 

^^In God’s name!” I cried, what have you done, men? 
what bloody work is this that your madness has brought 
you into?” 

Out of the vays!” exclaimed Beauty; we’ll talk to 
you presently.” 

And they proceeded to carry their burden up the com- 
panion-ladder. 

I ran after thorn. The morning was further advanced 
than I had imagined; the sun was high, but the sky 
cloudy, and light threads of air from the south-west were 


LITTLE LOO. 163 

burring the burnished surface of the sea. I stood at the 
companion and glanced swiftly round. 

The first object I saw, placed upon the skylight, was the 
mate, bound hand and foot, with blood upon his face. 
He was anything but dead, however; his eyes rolled rest- 
lessly, and whilst my gaze rested upon him, he strained 
his powerful limbs in Jiis bonds until the strands of the 
rope creaked again. 

A body of mei^ amongst whom was Deacon, were clear- 
ing away the starboard quarter-boat ready for lowering. 
Those who had hauled the captain on deck laid him down, 
on which Deacon looked round and jumped off the bul- 
warks. 

You haven’t killed him, I hope!” cried he. told 
you we wanted no murder done.” 

He’s not dead,” replied Beauty. ^^But d’ye think 1 
wur goin’ to let him shoot me? He levels his pistol at my 
head, an’ if I hadn’t ducked, there’d be a ball i’ my brains 
now. Then I guv him a back-hander, and down he goes; 
but he ain’t no more dead than I am.” 

‘^Deacon!” I cried, going up to him, ^‘for God’s sake, 
tell me what is the meaning of all this?” 

^^The meaning!” he shouted; why, the brig’s ours! 
To h — with the murderers of Young Joey.” 

I say that we ought to hang him!” shrieked Little 
Welchy, darting out from the group near the quarter-boat 
at this exclamation from Deacon. It ’ud not take me 
a minute to strop a block at the yard-arm there, and 
reeve a line through it, and hitch the end round liis 
neck. I’ll have the hanging of ye yet!” he yelled, dan- 
cing up to the mate, and siuiking his fist into his face. 

The mate grew black in the face, and his eyes started 
out round and white with his superhuman struggles to 
liberate his arms, but not a word did he utter. 

1 clutched at Deacon, and brought him some steps 
away from the men who were congregated round the 
skipper. 

Answer me one question — you’re the ringleader here, 
I see. I once saved your life — as you have often reminded 
me — and if you’re not a bloody-minded villain, you’ll dis- 
charge the debt.” 

What is it?” he answered, with a stubborn, savage, 
piratical glance. 


164 


LITTLE LOO. 


Miss Franklin safe?’’ 

^^Yes. Let go my arm; you’re squeezing me like a 
carpenter’s vise.” 

What are you going to do with those men?” 

^^Send them adrift in that quarter-boat.” 

I was beginning to plead, but he stoj)ped me with an 
oath. 

Look here; don’t you interfere! We’re all mad, mate, 
and ’ll not know you for a friend if you stick up for tliose 
murderers. It’s a short way of getting rid of them, and 
it leaves our hands clear of their blood.” 

He turned away, and bawled to one of the men to cut 
a couple of fathoms of line off the signal halyards and 
take a turn over the skipper’s arms, and then incited the 
others to bear a hand and get the quarter-boat ready. 

‘‘There’s wind coming, boys, and we must be clear of 
this place before it breezes up some vessel upon us.” 

I returned to my place at the companion, and planted 
myself against it, looking on. I had been tempted more 
than once to address them; my wild and horrified feelings 
would have given my tongue power, but sometliing there 
was in their faces— in the hard, fierce grins upon them, 
the furious eyes which they turned ever and anon upon 
Old Windward, and the })ale, still form of the captain; 
in their coarse voices, made frightful by the unspeakable 
blasphemy of their oaths, sometimes breaking into a 
hoarse shout or screech of passion when Deacon (the arch- 
devil of this conspiracy) sent a new fire into their blood 
by clever references to those actions of the two prostrate 
men which would most infuriate the crew to hear — which 
held me silent. 

I had need to be cautious. Miss Franklin’s preservation 
might be dependent on mine. In me one man, at all 
events, there would be to sell his life for her. But whilst 
all apyieals to them on behalf of their victims would cer- 
tainly be vain, they would assuredly jeopardize my own 
safety, and it was with a deeper shock of horror than 
words can express that I contemplated the feelings which 
would possess me when, flung into the boat to share the 
fate of the captain and mate, I should behold the brig 
gliding away into the far reaches of the Pacific, bearing 
in lier the girl I loved, with men more dangerous to her 
than wild beasts as her sole companions. 


LITTLE LOO. 


165 


Every man belonging to the brig was aft; and greatly 
astounded was I to see Old Pendulum as busy as the rest 
of them at the boat; for he, of all the ship’s company, 
should I have put down as the very last man to thrust his 
hand into a mess of this sort. They had stowed water in 
the bows, and some biscuit in the locker in the stern sheets 
of the boat, and this evidently was all the provisions they 
meant to let the two men have. When they had got as 
far as this, and were beginning to handle the falls and 
look at the victims, the skipper heaved a sigh and opened 
his eyes. His consciousness came to him immediately, 
and, like a thunder-clap, the perception of the tragical 
plight he was in rushed upon his mind. He gave a loud 
c»ry and tried to sit up, but could not put himself erect, 
owing to his wrists being secured. 

Let me go, men! let me get my feet! what are you about 
to do witli me?” he cried, and he gave so wild a leap by 
striking tlio deck with his heels, that Little Welchy rushed 
like a blood-liound u])on him and knelt upon his chest. 

Lie still!” he cried in that vehement rasping voice of 
his, vvhicli lent a most consistent note to the horror of the 
scene. I’ll be the death of ye! my hand’s ready for your 
tliroat! I’m smartin’ still, you dog, you, from tliat cow- 
hidin’! Lie as you are!” and he held his list suspended 
over the captain’s face. 

^^How then, the boat’s ready!” shouted Deacon. In 
with them; there’s wind coming, and we’re all aback! 
Pass along old blood-and-th under first!” 

Half a dozen men instantly surrounded the mate; he 
kicked and struggled like a raging madman, as he ivas 
lifted from the skylight, cursing the men, foaming at the 
mouth, and black in the face. They flung him into the 
boat as though he were a sack of potatoes, and in a few 
moments the cajitain was alongside of him, and a hand at 
each fall ready to lower away. 

I now ran forward, crying, — 

Their arms are fast! cast off their lashings before you 
send them adrift.” 

That’s right enough!” exclaimed Deacon. Jimmy, 
jump into the boat and pass your knife over their lash- 
ings.” 

Cursed if I’m going to do it!” replied Jim, drawing 


166 


LITTLE LOO. 


back. ^^The moment they gits their arms free, they’d 
knock me overboard.” 

Out of the vay !” shouted Little Welch y, and he dashed 
into the boat, his knife gleaming hi his hands. The lash- 
ings severed, he bounded on to the bulwarks before either 
of the men had time to clear themselves of the line, and 
the boat was lowered rapidly into the water. 

^‘Unhook them blocks, Mr. Sloe!” cried Beauty, while 
the men hung over the brig’s side, looking down into the 
boat with grim, pale, savage faces. 

Neither of the men moved; they had both arisen and 
seated themselves on the thwarts: and once the captain 
looked up at us — the expression on his face will haunt me 
to my death-bed; but, as if conscious of the vainness of all 
pleas, of all passion, they remained dumb and stirless. 

^‘If you don’t let go, by thunder, we’ll tow ye under 
water!” shouted Savings, who looked to be heartily en- 
joying this murdersome interlude. 

‘^Cut the falls!” I cried, dreading to see the men cap- 
sized and drowning alongside; and let them drift away.” 

This was promptly done, and the tackles fell with a 
splash. 

Stand b}'', Welchy, to prevent them getting on board!” 
shouted Deacon. ^^Now then, mates, let’s get the yards 
round. Billy, catch hold of the wheel. Here comes a 
breeze, bullies! Over with the wheel — over with it! Tail 
on here, my lads!” 

The cold, small breeze that had been darkening the 
surface of the water in the south while the men were at 
work on the quarter-boat, was now on the brig! and flat- 
tening the sails. Amid stamping of feet, and hoarse 
choruses, mingled with loud laughter and curses, intended 
to reach the ears of the two hajfless men, the yards were 
braced round, and headway got on the vessel. 

Bring her head west, due west!” shouted Deacon. 

Ay, ay!” was the response from the wheel. 

I went aft and looked at the boat. The mate sat star- 
ing stonily at the brig; his face clotted with blood, liis 
dress torn, his hair wild upon his head, and the wonderful 
expression in his countenance — a compound of his diaboli- 
cal passions, hardened and fixed by the hopelessness that 
had penetrated his heart of iron — made him a picture 
which only a Fuseli could do justice to. 


LITTLE LOO. 


167 


The captain leaned his cheek on his hand, and looked 
down into the bottom of the boat. Bitterly as I disliked 
him, I conld not view him, as he sat there, drifting away 
in miserable helplessness, without imprecating my own 
craven spirit for not prompting me to make one struggle 
for his salvation. In vain I reasoned, in the quick rush 
of thought that passed througli me, that nothing I could 
have done would avail him, that I was one man opposed 
to many, that on my life might depend a life dearer to me 
than my own, that for her sake I was justified in taking a 
neutral stand in this vile affair: I say, in vain; for the 
cowardice that could dictate so inhuman an act as the 
sending adrift of two human lives in a small boat, to live, 
perchance, for a brief hour in the wastes of the mighty 
deep, fired rny blood as I watched the motionless, misera- 
ble men, and I called myself the meanest of wretches for 
suffering the commission of the barbarous deed, without 
one word of protest, one syllable of exhortation! 

The boat was now dropping astern fast. The men had 
manned the yards, and the brig was slightly heeling to 
the little breeze that filled the upper canvas. 

The crew came aft in a body to watch the boat, on 
which I turned away, overcome with remorse, and the 
pitiful pathos of that helpless figure, with his cheek in his 
hand. Somehow I felt only for him; the mate had no 
part of my sympathies. 

Chadburn, 1 want to have a talk with you. Step into 
the cabin.” 

I turned and confronted Deacon. 

You are the promoter of this mutiny,” I said fiercely. 

The blood of those poor wretches is on your head!” and 
I pointed to the dwindling boat. 

He stared at me furiously, and exclaimed, in a low 
muttei'ing voice, — 

Don’t provoke me! Don’t give me any humbugging 
sentiment! I mean well by you. I owed you my life, 
and I am no scoundrel to recall that to you now in the 
face of your insults.” 

Was there no other way of keeping those men under, 
without sending them adrift — one of them wounded — to 
meet a slow and miserable death? You expose them in a 
small open boat, without sail or compass, with a poor 
stock of provisions and water, to struggle in the midst of 


1C8 


LITTLE LOO. 


a great ocean ! Shame on you! I have had no hand in 
thiS;, bear me witness! I have cursed myself for my 
cowardice in not striving to stay your murderous scheme. 
Is the gold in your island worth one drop of human 
blood r 

Several of the men had drawn near whilst I stood 
shouting, in my wrath, to Deacon. 

What/s the matter with Jack?” demanded Beauty. 
^MVhy, damme. Sniggers, you said he wur one of us! 
Here, I say,” addressing me angrily, ^^we don’t want no 
jaw from you. Tliere’s another boat handy, mate.” 

I took a glance at the angry faces that now surrounded 
me, and my thoughts rushed to the lonely girl below. 

^MJeacon, you asked me just now to step into the 
cabin. What is it you want?” 

Come to your senses, man,” was his answer. Do 
you mind that day when the mate knocked over Little 
Joey? You were savage enough then. Do you mind 
when the lad died? I say there was no man in this brig 
that wouldn’t have choked olf the mate more willingly 
than you. I’ve seen the blood in your face when tlie 
skipper’s been cursing us for doing our work like seamen. 
We’ve taken the law into our own hands, and given them 
back in one dose what they’ve been giving us ever since 
we left Bay port. If you’re quit of the job, be it so. 
We’ll take" the blame and welcome. Only there’s one 
thing you must do!” 

‘MV^iiat?” 

You’ll navigate the brig to the South Seas?” 

^^Y^es, I’ll do that.” 

Why, curse me, Jack, if you aren’t been trying^^to 
come the hactor over us!” cried Beauty, fetching me a 
thump in the back. 

We’ll put the brig in your hands and trust you,” ex- 
claimed Deacon. 

^‘1 accept the charge on one condition.” 

What now?” growled Old Sam. 

‘^That no harm comes to the captain’s sister.” 

Wot harm’s like to come to her from a ’spectable body 
o’ men like us?” said Suds, with a grin. 

^^The girl’s safe enough, you may take your affidavy o’ 
that!” cried Jimmy. 

She’s yours, Jack: we’ll give her to ye!” exclaimed a 


LITTLE LOO. 


1G9 


third voice; and Deacon, with a fine, patronizing air, 
said, marry you. Billy, fetch us a night-gown, and 

I’ll read the service. Jimmy’s got a proper snoring nose 
on him, and’ll stand for clerk to say amen!” 

At this there was a roar of laughter. 

You pledge yourselves to leave her to me, do you?” 
said L 

This inquiry provoked a chorus of yeses. 

’Tain’t the gal as we wants — it’s Sniggers’ island.” — 
don’t want no more wives — it’s the money to set us 
goin’ as gents that we’re arter,” — and so forth. 

‘^'Now, Deacon,” said I, you’re spokesman, and head 
of this crew, so I’ll just give you my meaning, plain and 
above board, before all hands. If you respect the lady, 
and leave her to herself, and behave like men to her. I’ll 
work for you honestly; I’ll do your bidding, and if 
Deacon’s island is anywhere in the neighborhood of his 
dead reckoning of it. I’ll put you right ashore there, and 
won’t ask for nor take a halfpenny of the money. The 
girl is my fortune, mates, and I’ll give you up my share 
of the gold for her, do you understand? But if you offend 
her, and don’t respect this arrangement, look out! I’ll 
play you some devilish trick, for the man who injures her 
injures me, and so you’ll understand me without further 
jawing.” 

This said, I held out my hand to Deacon, and shook 
hands with several of the men around; I then told Deacon 
I was ready to confer with him below. Banyard remained 
on deck to keep a look-out, and Savings stood at the 
wheel. 

By this*time the boat astern was a mere speck. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

WE SETTLE OUR COURSE. 

I TOLD Deacon to step into the Captain’s cabin where 
the charts were, and that I would follow him after having 
said a few words to the girl. 

With a heavy heart I turned the handle of the door of 
the cabin in which I had left her. She was seated on my 
chest, in an. attitude of eager expectation, her beautiful 


170 


3.1TTLE LOO. 


eyes lustrous with fear. She shrunk when I entered^ but 
started up on seeing me, and without speaking, clasped 
her hands tightly, and looked at me with wild and painful 
anxiety. 

You have no cause to be alarmed,” I said to her. I 
may truly say that you are safer now than you were when 
your brother and the mate ruled the vessel.” 

^MVhat hare they done with him?” she asked in a 
feverish whisper. 

They have put him and Mr. Sloe in a boat to find 
their way to the Cape of Good Hope, which is not many 
miles distant,” I answered, packing the first poor bit of 
comfort that came into my head into the tragical fact. 

Then they have not killed him?” she cried. 

Ho; he is as much alive as I am. And let me assure 
you that he stands a better chance of preserving his life 
in that boat than he did on board this brig, amid the men 
whom his treatment and the mate’s had rendered capable 
of any crime.” 

I thought they had killed him!” she moaned. 
heard the men go into his cabin, and I ran out, and I saw 
one of them strike him down. Oh, it was his own fault!” 
she cried. “He brought it upon himself. Again and 
again I told him that the men would rise and turn upon 
him if he did not treat them better. And now it has hap- 
pened! — What will become of him?” 

“I shall be able to reassure you presently,” said I, 
thinking it impolitic te exercise the patience of Deacon 
and the crew. “I cannot remain with you now; but I 
will ask you to give me your whole confidence, and to 
meet this dreadful occurrence with the courage I am sure 
you possess, and I count upon your remaining cool and 
trusting to me. Will you do so?” 

“Yes, yes,” she answered, grasping my hand, “I will 
do everything you ask me. But, oh, Mr. Chadburn, it is 
enough to drive me mad to think of my being left alone 
with this crew.” 

“ Y^ou are left alone with me* Try to think of your 
position in this light. You do not fear me?” 

“Ho, no!” she exclaimed, bursting into tears; “I 
know you will protect me from the men.” 

I closed the door upon her and returned to Deacon. 
He was overhauling the books in the Captain’s cabin, 


LITTLE LOO. 171 

and held one of them against his nose, goggling it Itidi- 
crously. 

Here I am, at your seryice/’ said I. 

He dog-eared the page, and put the volume in his 
pocket, saying, — 

I shall have a good read by-and-by. Tliere’s no one’s 
leave to ask, is there?” 

No, we enjoy burglars’ privilege for the present,” I 
replied, getting down the chart of the South Pacific, and 
laying it upon the table. 

He laughed oddly as he exclaimed, — 

You never thought I should bring all hands over to 
rny notion, including yourself. You were pretty ob- 
stinate against it; and, to quote the fag-ei)d of a famous 
conqueror’s speech, ‘‘ I had to seek for sympathy among 
the mob, away from the incredulous educated classes.” 

The impudence of this illustration made me smile in 
spite of myself; nor should I have been able to preserve 
my gravity had he held his tongue, so absurd was the con- 
sequential smirk that ornamented his face. 

I looked at him steadfastly, attracted by his whole ap- 
pearance, which I seemed to behold in a new light now 
that he was out of the forecastle and talking to me in the 
Captain’s cabin, and as the leader of the mutineers. Cer- 
tainly he was a singular person, with refinement' in the 
upper part of his face, and coarseness and animalism in 
the mouth and jaws. 

He turned to the chart, inspected it for some moments, 
and asked me where we were. I pulled out the log-book 
and gave him yesterday’s sights. 

Our course is south-west, then,” said he. 

Where do you want to go?” 

You know; you’ve got the place in your head pat. 
You frightened me with your exactness t’other night.” 

You want to get to this island of yours, near Teapy. 
You have already altered the brig’s course. You mean to 
round the Horn, then?” 

Certainly,” he answered, with his eyes on the chartj 

it’s the shortest road.” 

Do you know how much fresh water there is left in 
the brig’s hold?” 

I dare say there’s plenty,” he answered coolly. 

Supposing there isn’t?” 


172 


LITTLE LOO. 


can’t be bothered with such considerations/’ he 
replied; I have weightier matters to think of.” 

So saying, he struck his forehead with his hand. 

And pray what do you mean to do with the brig now 
that you have seized her?” 

That’s no concern of yours,” he answered, with 
his smirk upon his face. ^^You say you’ve had no 
liand in this business. It’s nothing to you, then, what 
our plans are, so long as we stick to our agreement with 
you.” 

I was nearly ‘telling him that this answer would not do; 
but on reflection I considered that I should be able to find 
out all I wanted to know by waiting a little, and so changed 
the subject by inquiring why he had asked me to come 
below. 

^‘Just to settle the brig’s course,” he answered, and 
rolling uj) the chart, he went on deck with it, I after 
him. 

The men hung about in groups. They had, iT^hought, 
an undecided manner, and seemed at a loss. But this 
would be merely a temporary embarrassment, the sense of 
novel power creating a feeling of awkwardness which would 
pass in a short time. 

Meanwhile the breeze had freshened, and was now 
blowing smartly dead abeam, rending, without scattering, 
a heavy mist that had come up with it, and which nar- 
rowed the liorizon to within a cable’s length of the brig. 
The mist, swarming through the rigging, was just like so 
many white lace veils blown along, and over among them 
tlie pale blue sky opened and closed, as the sunshine comes 
and goes upon a windy day. 

I looked at the compass, and found the brig’s head due 
west. 

The tumbling waters set me thinking of the little boat 
—miles astern now — and her wretched occupants. Would 
the cockle-shell keep afloat until some passing ship des- 
ci’icd her? It was a cruel doom to consign the men to, 
and my. heart fired afresh at the thought of it as I 
looked toward the crew coming aft, in response to Deacon’s 
hail. 

He spread the chart on the skylight, and sang out to 
the men to draw near, and motioned to me to approach 
with his head. We made a tolerably sized crowd as we 


LITTLE LOO. 


17:^ 

stood in a circle, and an ngly one certainly. Most of the 
men had pipes in their mouths, and those who weren’t 
smoking were chewing; in a very short time the deck was 
black under their feet. 

Now, mates,” said Deacon, as it’s my duty to spout, 

I may as well put myself amidships, where all hands can 
hear and see.” 

So saying, and with his self-satisfied grin, he got upon 
the skylight and squatted there cross-legged. 

Don’t give us no fine words,” said Old Sam. 

Languidge must always be close-reefed to suit my 
book.” 

‘^‘There’s the chart,” continued Deacon, putting his' 
finger upon it; ‘^and there’s the South Sea, and there’s 
Teapy. Here’s Cape Horn, and here’s the brig.” 

The men crowded and hustled each other to see. 

^^The way to the island, according to my way of think- 
ing, is imind by Cape Horn. If we sail east, we’ve got 
all this stretch of sea before us, all Australia and New 
Zealand to coast, no end of islands to run down, and a big 
spell of water at the end. If we sail sou’- west, we’ve only 
the Horn to double, then we head north-west, and a fort- 
night’s sailing ’ll bring us to where we’re bound.” 

Right you are,” cried Jimmy, nodding in a knowing 

way. 

Those who are for standing sou’- west hold up their 
hands.” 

Every man raised his arm. 

That’s settled!” exclaimed Deacon, addressing me. 

Very well,” I replied. 

The course is sou’-west,” he continued; ^^but before 
we brace up, let’s settle upon the officers. Jack Chadburn 
is skipper — that’s agreed. Who’s to be first mate?” 

You,” cried several voices. 

^'Vm quite agreeable,” he exclaimed with an air of 
magnanimity that would have been laughable but for the 
very depressing element of tragedy mixed up in the busi- 
ness. But if I’m chief mate I’m no longer Sniggers. 
I’m Mr. Deacon, and shall expect to be called sir.” 

I looked at the men, to judge from their faces whether 
they considered this man cracked. 

Old Sam cried, It’s dogs as we call sfr, chief-ly.” 

‘^Curse me, if I’m goiii’ to say sir to you, old ram^ 


174 


LITTLE LOO. 


shackle!’’ exclaimed Beauty. We’ll call ye Deacon, if 
you like, and shove Mister afore it on Sundays. But there 
ain’t no sirs aboard this wessel.” 

Here, growing impatient, I stepped in by shouting, — 
lb’s blowing up tidily, and there’s more behind this 
fog. Whilst we are jawing here we shall lose our spars. 
There’s work to be done, so let’s come to a settlement 
smartly.” 

‘^Jack’s as true as a hair!” grumbled Sam, looking to 
windward. Who’s to be second? sing out.” 

Give it to Banyard,” said Deacon. 

^^Banyard it is,” echoed several voices, no one coveting 
the berth. 

^^We must finish this business by-and-by,” cried I. 
‘^^Clew up the royals, let go the flying jib halyards — 
smartly, my lads. There’s plenty of sail to shorten.” 

And it was quite time the job was attended to; for the 
wind, under cover of the driving fog, had been freshening 
whilst we talked, and w^as now puffing hard enough to 
smother the channels in froth, and raise a yelling chorus 
up aloft. The men dashed about briskly, enough; the 
royals and top-gallant sails were handed, jibs and mainstay- 
sail furled, and we held on for a spell under whole topsails 
and courses. But as we should bring the wind on the 
bow to head our course, and the weather to windward 
looking as dark as a pocket, I gave orders to knot a single 
reef in both topsails. AVhen the men came down I sent 
them to reef the mainsail, the mdn tack was then boarded 
with a rousing chorus, the yards braced sharp up, and the 
brig sent surging and reaching through the rising sea. 

All around us the fog stood like a wall of wool, the 
waves running into it and disappearing. The wind was 
bitterly cold, a forecast of the weather we were now head- 
ing for, 

I was looking to leeward, when a voice fr(»m the fore- 
castle roared out: 

^^Hard down! hard down!” and before I could have 
found time to scramble to the wheel, a big ship oozed out 
of the fog on the weather quarter. She passed so close 
under our stern that her main top-mast stunsai 1-boo in 
was over our gaffend. You -could easily have jumped 
from her towering side on to our deck, and, as she rushed 


LITTliE LOO. 


175 


by, the thunder of the water at her bows, and the gale in 
her rigging roared in our ears. 

In a few seconds she had dived into the fog and vanished, 
leaving on my eye a hurrying, rolling image of lofty masts 
and huge iron hull, two men at the wheel, and a deck- 
house, gleaming with the moisture of the fog. 

A moment sooner, and she would have struck us full 
amidships, and down we should have toppled, for the 
whole length of the keel of her to scrape. 

How many ships are rammed out of existence in this 
way, and all hands drowned? A vessel, newly arrived, 
reports having been in collision with a ship in such and 
such a place, name of ship unknown; and months after 
they report at Lloyd’s that the To^n Jones, which left the 
port of Jericho on such a date, has not since been heard 
of. Ko; and she will never be heard of again, and her 
fate remains a secret of the sea 

The men were somewhat awestruck by this squeak,” 
as they called it, and stood staring into the fog, where the 
ship had vanished. 

The impression produced, however, was very short- 
lived, and they were soon tumbling aft again, in a lively, 
reckless way, to finish the interrupted conference with 
Deacon and me. 



CHAPTEK XXX. 

THE SAIL on’s CUKSE. 

It was now agreed that, as I was to be skipper, I should 
stand no watch, but come and go as I pleased. The 
watches were to continue as they were, Deacon to haye 
charge of the port, and Banyard of the starboard. 

Questioning the cook, I ascertained that there was still 
a good stock of fresh water in the hold, and enough ship- 
stores to last all hands for another six months. 

“Now> mates,” said I, ^^as we are all masters here, 
who’s going to talk to us about the cabin provisions? — 
are they going to be divided among all hands, or reserved 
for the use of the lady?” 

Wot sort o’ appetite has the lady got, and how long 
are we going to be making Deacon’s island?” asked 
Beauty, 


176 


LITTLE LOO. 


The run will take us all two months and more good 
sailing,” I replied. 

‘‘ Let the gal have the cabin stores,” cried Welchy. 
“ I’ve got nothen to say agin tlie fok’stle rations. The 
beef’s good eating! my notion is, we’ll swop them fowls, 
and whatever else is intended for cabin use, for the rum. 
Is that it, boys?” 

I turned to Deacon, and said, — 

“ If you want to reach your island, the course doesn’t 
lie through the rum cask. You must clap a stopper on 
that notion, or the brig will be hell afloat.” 

“ I’ll tell you what it is,” exclaimed Deacon, looking 
reund'him, “ the rum is ours, and we can do what we like 
with it. How much of it is there, Scum?” 

“ Why, not over much,” answered the cook. 

“ How much?” roared Beauty. 

“ There’s a cask full.” 

“ Is that all?” groaned Old Sam. 

“ Boys, we must allowance ourselves,” said Deacon. 
“ Two tots a-day till it’s all gone.” 

“Ain’t there more sorts of grog than rum aft?” de- 
mand ea Welchy. 

“ Yes, there’s brandy and whisky in bottles,” re- 
sponded the cook. 

“ It must all come foP^rd, rum and all,” said Beauty, 
with an oath, striking his hands together. 

“ That’s not fair,” said I. “ A portion should be left 
to us who live aft.” 

“ Well, we’ll share and share alike,” cried Old Sam. 

“ Let’s get some breakfast first,” I-exclaimed. “ After- 
Avard two men out of each Avatch can come along Avitli the 
cook, and we’ll count the bottles and divide them.” 

This proposition was accepted, and the men Avent for- 
ward, cutting capers, some of them Avaltzing, singing and 
laughing at the prospect of the drink, and chasing each 
other in and out of the galley and around the long boat. 

I went forward under the pretense of inspecting the fore 
tack, and sneaking fnto the deck-house, smartly extracted 
a small gimlet from the tool chest and returned ait. 
KnoAving where the rum casks Avere stowed, I glided 
below Avhile Deacon Avas in the forecastle and Banyard 
marched the deck, and took a small hand lamp from*^ the 


LITTLE LOO. 


m 


captain’s cabin, with which I descended into the steerage. 
The rum casks were close against the hatch, though the 
darkness was so profound that, without the lamp, I should 
have groped for an hour without finding them. Sounding 
the first cask, I found it empty: but the second cask was 
full. 

I set the point of fhe gimlet at the lowermost part of 
the bilge, and twisted the steel in several places through 
the wood: when I withdrew it the rum followed in a thin 
but steady stream. This job accomplished, I withdrew 
cautiously, gained the cabin unperceived, and dropped 
the gimlet through a porthole into the sea. IN’ow, thought 
I, let them find out who did this if they can; and, at all 
events. Miss Franklin is menaced with one danger the 
less. 

I knocked on the door of the cabin in which I had left 
her: and found her looking through the porthole at the 
passing water, with her arms on the side of the bunk, I 
at once told her of the arrangements the men had come to 
among themselves, that she would not be interfered with, 
that, in fact, they had resigned her wholly to me. She 
had been crying bitterly, poor girl; her eyes were red, and 
tears still glittered on the lashes of them: but she smiled 
when I addressed her, and locking her hands upon my 
arm, she exclaimed, You are the only friend I have now 
— you will not let the men harm me!” 

' I will make no grand promises,” I answered, touched 
to the quick by her appeal, and the pleading sweetness and 
simplicity of her action, You shall judge me by what 
I do.” And so saying, I led her out of the gloomy cabin, 
and made her sit upon one of the cushioned benches at 
the table. Here I told her that the men had made me their 
captain; and in the briefest terms possible I explained to 
her the leading motive of the mutiny by relating Deacon’s 
story of the island. T added that the men desired me to 
carry the brig round Cape Horn to the South Seas, and 
that we should probably be nine or ten weeks in complet- 
ing the voyage. I next spoke to her of her brother, and 
though I felt the mockery of the hopes I undertook to 
impart, I managed to cheer her up somewhat with the 
notion that his rescue was very possible. Indeed, she was 
so ignorant of the sea that I might have spun her any 
story, and she would have Relieved it. 


LITTLE LOO. 


:t78 

How are we to get away from these dreadful men?’’ 
she wanted to know. 

I told her I could not answer her that question yet. 

^^It seems a dream to me!” she cried, with a violent 
shudder. I want to be brave, but my courage dies in 
me when I think of being alone with this crew, and the 
dreadful uncertainty of my future.” 

And she looked up at me with a wistful smile, while her 
eyes were as soft as a lamb’s seeking its dam. 

You have nothing to fear from the men,” said I, 

they heartily like you. AVhen I was in the forecastle 
they often spoke of you with admiration and pleasure. 
And be sure they will think twice before they alfront you, 
for 1 have made my meaning quite clear to them. Be- 
sides, there is Mionor among thieves.’ They think they 
are going to fill their pockets with gold: I have told them 
I will resign my share for you. So you see, you are mv 
share of the booty, and they will not attempt to take you 
from me.” 

Enough had passed between us, days before, in many a 
quiet cliat together, to lend a significance to this speech 
which no tone I could employ could deprive it of. 

In spite of her misery and fear, a blush stole into her 
cheek, and her rich beauty broke out through her sorrow. 

am quite content to have fallen to your share,” she 
answered naively; we have always been good friends.” 

^‘^Only give me your full confidence,” said I, ^^and you 
will give me heart to talk to you.” 

At this moment Deacon came i»to the cabin. He de- 
scended the ladder jauntily, but looked confused and awk- 
ward when he saw Miss Franklin. 

She rose and drew close to me. 

‘^Here is an innocent lady,” said I, addressing him, 

whom we have frightened in a way not very honorable 
to English sailors. As an educated man you will respect 
her, both because she is a defenseless woman, and because 
she has always shown the light kind of feeling toward the 
crew.” 

He made her a bow, and exclaimed, — 

You’re quite safe with us. Jack Chadburn will look 
after you, ma’am. We have no quarrel with you. But 
your brother was — ” 

You’re quit of the skipper, mate,” I interrupted. 


LITTLE LOOa 


179 


There’s no nse talking about him. Fasten upon Old 
Windward, if you want somebody to sit upon; his memory 
is respectable game; and Miss Franklin will hear you out 
if you will control your tongue when you think of strong 
words.” 

He grinned, and said, — 

I hope the lady don’t believe I’m a rascal. Leave her 
to me, and I’ll see that she chinks enough in her pocket 
to fit her out with something bigger than a doll’s house.” 

She tried to say something to him, but could not find 
her voice. I took her hand and held it. Mine is a pretty 
large hand, and I thought it would comfort her to feel the 
protection of it. 

‘^Deacon,” said I, we’ve been making arrangements on 
deck which concern the men. Let us now agree to some 
arrangements which shall concern us who are to live aft. 
First and foremost, I propose that Miss Franklin occupies 
that cabin,” pointing to tlie skipper’s, which was the best. 

She’s welcome to it,” he answered. 

“I’ll take the cabin she’s been using, and you and 
Banyard can choose from the others.” 

“That’ll suit me,” he answered, pointing to mine, 
“ and Banyard will stow away snugly enough in the one 
opposite.” 

“After breakfast,” said I, addressing her, “I’ll tell the 
cook to put your things into your new berth. There’s a 
table there where your meals can be served; as it is ar- 
ranged between me and Deacon and the men that you are 
to do as you please, take your meals at the table here or in 
the cabin, and no one will interfere with you. That’s so, 
isn’t it ?” said I, with a significant look at Deacon. 

“Eight enough,” he answered. “Your duty is to 
navigate the brig. Stick to that, and we’ll keep our 
promise.” 

Her hand pressed mine; not choosing to let her remain 
under Deacon’s inspection any longer, I conducted her, 
with as much ceremony as a Jack Swab like me could 
throw into his manners, into her cabin, so as to impress 
the man with an idea of her consequence, and my own 
opinion of her. 


180 


LITTLE LOO^ 


CHAPTER ^XXI. 

REVELRY. 

All this time the rum was running out of tlie cask 
down in the steerage. It might take a half-hoiir to leak 
empty, land I wanted as long a time after that as could be 
got to let the smell of the spirit dryout; though not much 
was ifo be feared on that head, for the place was full of 
strong smells, quite enough to drown the fumes of rum, or 
give them an unrecognizable character. 

I went on deck, and found the fog clearing away, and 
the wind blowing a strong, steady breeze, whilst the long 
seas now and again ran a sheet of water over the weather- 
bow, and made the forecastle shine like ice under the 
white windy sunlight. 

The men were in the forecastle getting their breakfast, 
Welchy at the wheel, and Banyard marching to wind- 
ward. 

I sung out to Deacon, through the sky-light, to come' 
on deck and order the cook to get breakfast for us, as the 
fellow was down in the forecastle, and we stood a chance 
of getting nothing to eat. 

Shake it out of her, Welchy!’’ I cried, as the brig chop- 
])ed the water with her martingale, and took in a smoMi- 
erer, right over the head, like a cloud of steam; we’ll 
have the main-t’-gallant sail on her presently. It’s a long 
drive to the Horn, mate, and we must make a run for it. 
I’ll square the old bucket; the devil’s got the tow-rope, 
and I warrant she’ll walk.” 

That’s the style,” he answered, looking a regular little 
pirate in his fur cap and loose dress and rollicking move- 
ments, as the wheel-spokes swept through his hands; 

we’ll drag her through it. I lay it’ll take Old Wind- 
ward some hard rowin’ to come up with us! I dessay 
they’re pretty sea-sick by this time, aren’t they? I reckon 
they’re trying to remember their prayers!” 

''The most vindictive delight gleamed in his eyes as ho 
looked astern. 

I say, AVelchy, all this business happened whilst I was 


LITTLE LOO. 181 

asleep. What are we going to do with the brig? If we 
are to ship the gold in her, where are we to carry it?” 

Here Banyard joined us. 

Blessjd if I know,” answered Welchy, with an inde- 
scribable air of dare-devilism about him. Let’s reach 
the island fust, and have a spell ashore. We’ll settle it 
tliere. That’s what the crew means.” 

^‘Suppose we should find a man-o’-war there?” sug- 
gested Banyard. 

Suppose we don’t. Hang your supposin’s. Suppose 
your aunt wur a grampus, what a rum uncle slie’d make!” 

the island is uninhabited, there’s not much chance 
of our finding a man-of-war there,” said I. 

Besides,” cried Welchy, who’s going to say you 
aren’t skipper, and that we're bound to — to — ” 

^^Vancouver’s Island,” said I, seeing him wanting. 

^^Blowed out o’ our course! wot’s more natural? Leave 
Jack alone!” he shouted; ^Mie warn’t born last night.” 

True for you, you villain,” thought I, and if I don’t 
beat you all yet — ” ^ 

So now I was satisfied that the crew had formed no 
plans. I ought to have judged so from 'Deacon’s refusal 
to enlighten me. 

Presently the men began to push their heads through 
the scuttle, and came aft, and hung about the waist and 
main-deck, plainly requiring by their manner that the 
grog should be divided forthwith. 

Let’s get the topgallant-sail on her, my lads,” shouted 
I, rubbing my hands, and pretending to be heartily in the 
spirit of the affair. A hand up aloft and loose it. 
Loose the main staysail. We’ll make the old girl creak. 
Hurrah for t’other side of the Horn!” 

Stimulated by my cries, they went to work smartly; in 
a few moments canvas flapped heavily overhead, and down 
came a voice, Sheet home.” The men buckled to with a 
chorus, roused aft the staysail -sheet and mast-headed the 
topgallant- yard. 

The brig felt the extra pressure immediately, and the ' 
foam spat and rushed along in a broad sheet on the lee 
side, as if a paddle-wheel churned it up; while the deck 
sloped like the side of a hill, and the lee lower yard'-arms 
hung close to the water. 

It was more to my interest than the crew’s to get rid of 


182 


LITTLE LOO. 


this part of the voyage. Heading as we were, we had to 
expect strong contrary winds and heavy seas, all this side 
of the Horn, and no chance of a rescue, nor of making 
the mutiny known; whereas, to the westward of the iron 
Cape, on the summer waters of the Pacific, a calm might 
put us near enough to a vessel to communicate wi-t-li piiiv- 
iJy, or we might come across a man-of-war. 

I was sincere enough then in my promise to Welchy to 
^^squeeze the old bucket.’’ Whilst there was wind the 
brig should carry all the sail she could stagger under, and 
if I liad not rounded the Horn by that day month, it 
should not be for the want of what sailors call ‘^drag- 
ging.” 

The work I had put the men upon took time. When 
everything was belayed, and the ropes coiled down, I 
ordered them to man the pumps. Some of them looked 
rather surprised and black at these orders, but neverthe- 
less they fastened upon the handles and kept the pumps 
working until no more water came. Indeed, there was 
little enough in the brig. She was as tight as a soup and 
bouilli tin; and what little water was in her had no doubt 
drained into the hold from above. 

“ Now, then,” exclaimed Beauty, when the pumping 
was over, stepping forward, “ what about the liquor?” 
‘^nVe’ve not yet had breakfast aft,” I answered, 
you’re in a tremendous hurry, mate. Deacon,” I 
shouted, ‘Mvake up the cook, will you? here’s Beauty, 
who has just swallowed a bucketful of tea, says he is 
choked with thirst, and wants to be at the niarines,’’ 

My good humor, mingled however with a tone of author- 
ity, put the men off, I told them to light their pipes, and 
when the cook had served our breakfast the drink should 
be distributed. In course of time the cook came aft with 
the breakfast; as the men liad been served' with bacon, no 
jealousy was excited among them by the hissing rashers as 
they ’were carried along the deck. 

Banyard and I went below, leaving Deacon in charge; 
and the men came aft and lay upon the skylight, or 
squatted on the deck, using both ends of the brig as it 
pleased them, and leaving only the cabin, though I was 
not sure that they would not penetrate to this presently, 
and disregard their compact with me in the fiercer spirit 
of mutineering that would follow the first stage of revolt. 


LITTLE LOO. 


183 


With my own hands I prepared a breakfast tray for 
Miss Franklin and carried it to her. She shook her head 
when she saw the food, but thanked me for my kindness 
in bringing it to her, though in a tone of humility that 
was extremely painful to me to hear. 

I am afraid I have not yet succeeded in winning your 
confidence,” I exclaimed, lingering near the cabin door. 

You have, indeed!” she cried earnestly. 

If you could read my heart you would find I deserve 
it,” said I. 

“ Do not misjudge me,” she said, starting up and ex- 
tending her hand. I cannot help my cowardice. From 
one moment to another I do not know what is happening 
on deck, and when the handle of the door was turned I 
trembled lest anybody but you might come in.” 

Patience and courage will put all things right for us,” 
I answered, cheerily. It is an anxious, hard time for 
me as well as you, but I can look at it with a light heart; 
for I am sure all will be well in the end.” 

However, though I put on this easy manner to reassure 
her, her trouble and fear cut me deep: I could not fully 
hope that she would think me as honest and devoted as I 
was; and I mourned over the agony of heart her thoughts 
must give her when she reflected upon her brother, and 
on her own helplessness, and the shame and death which 
her maidenly terrors would, in their paroxysms, body 
forth as her future. 

As I sat at breakfast with Banyard, I asked him how it 
chanced that he was in the mutiny. ^^I should never 
have thought you a man willing to jump into a mess of 
of this kind,” said I. 

^‘I dessay not,” he replied in his stolid fashion. 

You were as active as any of them in clearing away 
the boat, and I was amazed to see you at work.” 

Wherever I goes, mister, Ihn always to be found in 
the biggest crowd, whethor my notions is among ’em or 
whether they ain’t,” he replied. 

^^I have called Deacon to witness that I took no part 
in this murderous business!” I exclaimed. 

^‘ I don’t see wot good that can do,” said he. 

Perhaps not, but there’s no reason why I should be 
hung or locked up for life along with the rest of you, 


184 


LITTLE LOO. 


because Deacon has an idea that he hid a heap of gold in 
an island 

^^That yarn be jiggered!” cried Banyard, with remark- 
able emphasis. 

You don’t believe it, then?” 

Believe it! should think I don’t! I told ’em so. I 
aren’t afeard. Deacon knows I don’t believe it.” 

So you helped the men to seize the brig in order to 
carry away a treasure which in your opinion has no exist- 
ence?” 

He looked at me with his mulish wooden face and 
said, — 

Do you believe in it?” . 

1 answered cautiously: have thought very little 

about it.” 

‘MVas you on deck when the skipper and mate wur 
chucked into the quarter-boat?” 

I was.” 

Why didn’t ye fight for ’em?” 

Because I’m not a match for all hands, booby.” 

ISTeither am I,” he shouted, ^‘^and that’s why I’m 
become a murderin’ pirate.” 

I burst into a laugh at the grimace with which he ac- 
companied these words; at the same moment Deacon sung 
out to him through the skylight to bear a hand and come 
on deck: 

The men are wanting to get at the grog, and are 
only waiting until the cabin breakfast’s done.” 

In a few minutes Banyard left the table, and Deacon 
came below and fell to his breakfast. His eyes shone 
with a peculiar brightness, and a smile baffling description, 
so odd was the admixture of subtlety, cunning, and self- 
importance haunting his pale face. 

He began to eat in a great hurry, and asked me where 
Miss Franklin was. 

Where she ought to be,” I answered, ^^and that’s 
my business. You stick to your gold and don’t trouble 
yourself about my earnings.” 

He burst into a loud laugh, and cried, — 

‘^Lord, what a thing is jealousy! It is the green-eyed 
monster that doth mock the meat it feeds on. ... Do 
you know^ mate^ that reading isn’t correct? It ought to 


LITTLE LOO, 185 

be make, not mock. It makes the meat it feeds on. D’ye 
see the sense now?” 

‘^You’ll be having Beauty upon you if you keep the 
men waiting for their drink,” said I, passing over the 
first part of his speech. 

^^Why don’t you let me marry you?” he exclaimed in 
a stage whisper, dropping his knife in order to put his 
finger against his nose. You never heard me read 
prayers, did you? There’s never a hand in or out of the 
pulpit could beat me at unction. The capstan on the 
quarter-deck will make a first-class altar: nothing to do 
but spread the ensign over it. We’ll hoist every scrap of 
bunting, and we’ll have a regular sailor’s ball. Suds will 
find the music, and we’ll give Mrs. Chadbnrn some regular 
sea-pleasure — hornpipes, polkas, songs, and proper laugh- 
able tomfoolery, eh?” 

He started from his chair in his eagerness, but I laid a 
heavy hand on his shoulder, and made him sit again. 

My answer is, Ho!” I said, looking at him sternly. 

You have made me a promise — if you break it, look 
out for yourself!” 

He recommenced his breakfast without answer. 

I went on deck to tell the men to depute four of their 
mates to come below and divide the grog. There was no 
chance of diverting them from their resolution to get pos- 
session of the liquor, and my policy was to appear to fall 
readily into their wishes. 

They chose Beauty, Welchy, Jim, and Old Sam, as 
representing each watch. With tl^m came the cook. In 
solemn file we repaired to the cabin. They were for 
slinging the rum cask out of the steerage first; but I ad- 
vised them, before doing this, to overhaul the bottles — 
my reason being to delay the visit to the steerage as long 
as possible, that the smell of the evacuated rum might 
pass. ^ 

All the spirits for cabin use were in the pantry. Four 
cases, each containing a dozen and a half bottles, were- all 
that was left of the original stock. The cases contained 
rum, brandy and hollands. 

Here was stock enough to finish the voyage upon to 
Sydney without stint, it having been designed for the 
moderate use of three persons only. 

When the cases were opened, and the men saw the hot- 


186 


LITTLE LOO, 


ties, they ma^e a great noise. It was a fine show of drink, 
they thought, and loudly they congratulated the row of 
faces at the skylight, which were looking down upon us 
with eager expressions on them. 

Here’s lush enough to drown all me-lan-choly !” shout- 
ed Little AVelchy. 

Ay!” roared Jim, ^Land there’s ten times as much 
agin below, bully-boys!” 

The bottles ^vere then counted. I divided the quantity 
by the number of j^ersons on board, taking care to include 
Miss Franklin, so that the men might have soijie bottles 
the less to carry forward. 

The cook then proceeded with the distribution. Beauty 
sprang on to the table and handed the bottles to the men 
on deck. It was intensely unpleasant to witness the wild 
eagerness witli which they stretched out their hands, their 
blind, mad fondling of the bottles against their breasts. 
The men in the cabin stuck the bottles that fell to them 
info their j)ockets and bosoms. Misers snatching at lumps 
of gold would not exhibit a more disgusting anxiety to 
retain the precious stuff about their persons. 

This done. I ordered the cook to lead the way to the 
rum cask. He lighted a lamp, and we followed him into 
the steerage. The fumes of the rum would be strong 
enough in my nostrils, quickened in their faculty of smell 
by conscience; but the others noticed nothing. 

Here’s the cask, boys,” exclaimed the cook, giving it 
a kick. But echo ans-wered, Where?” Never was an 
emptier sound. The fellow started and peered at the 
cask, holding the lamp*above his head. 

Why — what the blazes!” he muttered, and gave it an- 
other kick. The sound was unmistakable. 

‘'^They aren’t shifted, sure-lyl” he cried, giving the 
other cask a kick. 

That, too, was empty. 

It’s leaked away. It’s all gone!” he shouted. 

Out of the road!” bawled Beauty, and he struck the 
two casks heavily with his clinched fist, and with an oath 
exclaimed, ‘^They’re empty, suiie enough!” 

I remind me of the picture of the steerage at this mo- 
ment, dimly lighted by the dickering lamp-flame: the 
faces of the angry men, their different postures and pict- 
uresque attire; the vague shadows cast by the solid stanch- 


LITTLE LOO. 


187 


ions, the massive beams across the deck, the impenetrable 
blackness of the further corners, while the groaning of 
the timbers, as the brig worked in the seas, mingled with 
the muffled murmur of the frothing water that roared 
outside. 

I pretended to be as much staggered and disappointed 
as the rest, and administered an experimental kick to the 
casks, as though I could not believe in any other echo 
than my own; and turning smartly on the cook, I asked 
him if he suspected any foul play. 

He rolled his eyes upon the others, who stood glower- 
ing, on him, and swore that he knew nothing about it; 
the cask was full yesterday, and that was all he had to 
say. 

Hereupon Beauty snatched the lamp from his hand, and 
bawled to the others to slew the cask round and find the 
leak. 

This was soon done, and the gimlet-hole promptly dis- 
covered by the sugary black stain which the oozing rum 
had left around it. 

^^It’s clear enough!” shouted the cook. ^^The skipper 
was here yesterday morning. He sprang the rum; he 
guessed the ineanin’ in the crew’s minds.” 

That’s it,” said I. It has been a long time leaking 
away. Can’t you smell the fumes still?” And I sniffed 
violently. 

Bestowing hearty curses on the Captain, the men 
scrambled up through theliatchway, after satisfying them- 
selves there was no third cask secreted. 

When the sad news was repeated on deck, how the 
precious liquor was all wasted and gone, thanks to the 
skipper’s malice, deep were the oaths and^furious the disap- 
pointment of thg crew. 

But rage Would not fill the casks afresh; besides, every 
man carried a special solace and comfort in his shirt 
bosom or breeches pocket. 

Here’s more than ever I signed articles to swaller at 
one gulp!” shouts Welchy, holding his bottles high, and 
caperiiig about the deck. 

Bile the kettle, Polly!” cries Suds, fetching the cook 
a thump in the back; ‘^^ I’m for a bloomin’ bowl o’ punch 
right away off. Skipper,” shouting to me, ^^put us 
ashore before eight bells vhere we can pick some lemons, 


188 


LITTLE L0@. 


as I’m growed uncommon dainty, and can’t think o’ tak- 
ing my punch without the correct flavorin’!” 

Tumbling about the decks and roaring with laughter, 
they scrambled forward and vanished in the forecastle, 
amid the fog of a heavy sea which the brig took over her 
at the moment. 

I looked with grave forebodings to the effects of the 
s})irits upon the crew. Maddened by their libations, they 
niigliG come tumbling into the cabin, where Miss Franklin 
would be at their mercy. Moreover, the safety of the 
bffig might be imperiled by their inability to work her 
should the wind freshen or shift. 

Deeply anxious, I stepped below, and entering Miss 
Franklin’s cabin, I briefly related this last freak of the 
crew, and urged her, should the men come aft, to preserve 
her courage, and meet them good-naturedly and with no 
show of fear, and even to fall into their humors, leaving 
it for me to draw the line for them and protect her from 
any insult. 

The poor girl was greatly scared, and ran up to me and 
clung to my arm, imploring me not to leave her, and de- 
claring that if the men came into her cabin she should die 
of terror. 

I loved her all the better for her fear, and felt myself 
the bolder for it; but in case the men broke out, as I 
dreaded, her timidity would make my task of keeping her 
clear of them very difficult; as, knowing their character, 
I foresaw that they would consider themselves insulted by 
her terror, whereas a little tact on her part would easily 
conciliatre them. 

Yet, when I looked down into her meek, white face, I 
knew there was no courage the^’e I could depend on. I 
must flght for her, and do the best I could, and that best 
would certainly involve the shedding of rhy blood for lier; 
for, not to say tiuit she was a lonely, hel})less woman, and 
as such, demanding my protection by the foremost appeal 
in the world, she was my love. 

I looked into her mild and swimming eyes, a»nd swore to 
her, with my lips co her ears, that no harm should befall her 
whilst 1 had a hand to raise; then, leading her back to a 
chair, with a whispered entreaty to hold up her heart, I 
pressed her hand between mine, and left the cabin. 

When I got on deck I was not much reassured by Old 


LITTLE LOO. 


189 


Biinyurd telling me chat the men were going to make a 
clay of it. 

That means/’ said I, t^^^y will sleep in to-night, and 
leave the wind to shorten sail for the brig if a squall 
comes.” 

‘^There’s certainly quite enough liquor among them to 
make them tipsy,” he answered. 

Here the cook came aft, and said the men wanted a 
plurn-duti' boiled for their dinner. 

A rouser it’s to be, as’ll take a whole bottle of brandy 
to make a Hare of.” 

‘MVell,” I exclaimed, you know where the flour is. 
Trundle a cask of it for’arcl, if you like. I’m only their 
servant. Don’t come to me for orders.” 

I asked where Deacon was, and Banyard told me he was 
in the forecastle, having added his allowance of li(juor to 
the common stock. For my own part, I preferred that he 
should be there, and made up my mind to stand his watch 
if he did not come aft, as I did not at all relish the notion 
of his going drunk into the cabin. And sure enough he 
]’emained forward, either for the purpose of currying 
favor with the men, by drinking with them, or more prob- 
ably because he saw a chance of obtaining more drink by 
adding his share to the common stock, than by keeping 
his bottle in Ids cabin. 

The men was quiet throughout the morning; now and 
then some of them emerged through the scuttlei to have 
a look around them, and then dro})ped below again. 

The wind held steady, but the long ocean rollers made a 
wet berth of tlie forecastle deck, and as far as the main 
hatch, the deck shone under the constant slucing of the 
bow wave, whilst the water bubbled and surged and 
frothed, like a small swollen river in the lee scnj)])ers. 

It turned out that the crew were reserving their forces, 
for after dinner the singing began. The chorusing was 
])retty steady at the first start, but it soon grew wihl and 
disorderly, marking the development of the intoxicating 
element. 

Banyard had gone below at eight bells, and I remained 
on deck, leaving it only for ten minutes when the cook 
brought our dinner aft, to prepare and carry the meal to 
Miss Franklin. For the present, at all events, I was de- 
termined that nobody but myself should intrude upon her. 


190 


LITTLE LOO. 


I liurriedly told her that all was safe so far, and excused 
my hastening away by explaining that I was in charge of 
the brig, and wished to keep my eye on the men’s doings. 

They were shouting and singing at the top of their 
voices when Old Sam came aft to relieve the wheel. He 
brought an inflamed eye with him, but his step was steady, 
and if his brain was rather muddled, his sailorly instincts 
were lively enough, for he steered the brig faithfully, 
meeting the sea in true style, and, indeed, devoting more 
attention to his work than he probably would have done 
had he not been drinking. This was one anxiety the less 
for me. 

Shortly after Old Sam had taken the wheel, the scuttle 
was pushed back and the whole' of the crew came on deck. 
The brig at that moment dished a sheet of spray, Avhich 
fell upon them like the roof of a house. Amid a volley 
of oaths, loud laughter, and a heap of queer scuffling, 
they shook the water off them. But the salute made 
them pause and look around them, evidently undeter- 
mined. 

Four of them were badly intoxicated, rolling about, 
with pale faces, their liair over their eyes, and their dress 
disordered. The others had aiidved at various stages, and 
now one might see the different dispositions of men under 
the influence of what is proverbially favorable to the ex- 
pression of truth. 

Beauty, ugly and scowling, savagely thrust away the 
tipplers whom the movements of the brig, or their own 
unsteadiness, rolled up against him; Welchy screeched 
out songs with wild flourishes of his arms and fantastic 
movements of his legs; Suds incessantly grinned; Deacon 
harangued with his arms extended; Jimmy laid down 
and wept. The others variously interpreted, in fashions 
.more or less maudlin, their own amiable characteristics. 

It now appeared that they had come up to dance. Su-ds, 
with his imbecile grin, steadied himself between the 
knight heads and began to maul his old concertina, mak- 
ing the thing shriek like a tortured cat. But drunk as 
they were, the ducking they had received, the sloping, 
slippery deck, and the strong wind chilling the water 
against their skins, were irresistible arguments against the 
diversion. 

So, after shouting to each other, they went below again. 


LITTLE LOO. 


191 


first knocking Suds and his concertina down the scuttle, 
and following pell-mell, hastened by another drenching 
sea which, to my infinite satisfaction, poured down upon 
tlieni like a cataract. 

What happened after this among them I do not know. 
Closing the slide of the scuttle, they shut out all sonnd. 
I waited until four o’clock, then roused out Banyard, and 
desired him to take the wheel while Sam went forward to 
call the watch. 

The old man advanced to the scuttle, pushed back the 
slide, bawled at the top of his voice, and hammered 
violently. To no purpose. He then dropped below him- 
self, on which I sent Banyard forward to find out the 
condition of the men, while T held the wheel. He peered 
through the scuttle, but not being able to satisfy himself 
by inspecting the darkness, he boldly adventured below, 
was lost to my sight for some minutes, and then returned 
with abroad grin ornamenting his wooden face. 

‘‘They’re all drunk and asleep,” said he: “lying one 
a’top o’ the other — never see the like! There’s broken 
bottles every wheres; not a whole bottle to be seen. They’ve 
even cribbed Old Liverpool’s ’lowance, and there he is 
cussin’ of ’em for robbers, and gropin’ about for any sort 
o’ drink he can lay his hands on, and there ain’t a drop to 
be found.” 

“ Is the lamp all safe?” I asked. 

“ It’s out,” he answered. 

“Then, old fellow,” said I, “we shall have to work the 
brig ourselves until the brutes come to. Thank God, 
there’s no more drink left for them,” 

“And I says the same,” exclaimed Banyard, pulling 
out his pipe. 

As Old Sam, ho^v^ever, was sober enough to lend us a 
hand, I insisted upon his coming out of the forecastle and 
standing his trick at the wheel; and in this manner we 
kept watch, turn and turn about, until midnight, at which 
hour the wind drew right abeam, and the sky shone out 
clearer than I had ever before seen it — not a shadow to 
stain its brilliant midnight blue, and the stars burning as 
fiercely as electric sparks. 

As the braces wanted manning, and we could afford to 
carry more sail, I went forward, and, seizing hold of a 


192 


LITTLE LOO. 


capstan bar, hammered on the scuttle with a note of 
thunder, at the same time roaring at the top of my voice 
for tlie starboard watch to come on deck. 

This gentle appeal was not made in vain. In a few 
moments three or four men came up yawning and mutter- 
ing out of the forecastle, and without offering them any 
apology for disturbing their refreshing slumbers, I tallied 
tiieni on to the braces, and then sent them aloft to shake 
the reefs out of the topsails. 

I then advised Sam to jump below with a bucket of 
water and rouse up the rest of his mates, as here was a 
slant of wind on no account to be lost. The brig could 
carry royals and topmast studdingsails, and these, I told 
liim, I meant to pack on her, as it was not my intention 
to pass my life, like the skipper of the phantom ship, in 
trying to double the Horn. 

He at once undertook to produce the rest of the sleepers, 
and, after much free splashing of water and an immoder- 
ate expenditure of oaths, all hands came spluttering and 
shivering on deck, some of them half-blind with the fumes 
in their brains, and knocking against each other like a 
pack of sheep. 

Their appearance was proof to me that the orgy was 
over, and singing out that we had now got a rattling 
beam wind, and that we should be madmen not to take 
advantage of it, when any moment might brkig up a gale 
out of the westward to screech in our teeth, I clapped 
them on to the topsail halyards, then set the royals, 
spanker, and flying jib, and sent up the topmast studding- 
sails. 

Under this great increase of pressure the Little Loo 
hummed throifgh the water like a blue-bottle through the 
air; she bounded from sea to sea; every shroud sang, the 
weather-braces stood like bars of iron, and from under her 
counter such a whirl of froth spat sheer into the darkness 
astern, that it was like looking at steam blowing off from 
an escape-pipe. 

The men, however, were altogether too much capsized 
by their excesses to take notice of the speed, and the 
splendid gain in reckoning which would be produced by 
it; when the work was done, I sang out to the port watch 
to go below, and away they ran, while the starbowlines 


LITTLE LOO. 


19S 

gathered themselves to leeward of the galley and snoozed 
off the vapor that still kept them half-witted. 

So ended this eventful day. 


OHAPTEE XXXIL 
deacon’s ho Is- or. 

With the exception of the few bottles that had fallen 
to our share who lived in the cabin^ there was no more 
drink left in the brig; though of this I was not sure until 
,a runimaging party headed by Beauty had explored every 
accessible part of the vessel. ■ 

There was more to gladden me in this than meets youi 
eye. I do not speak of the men not being able to intoxi- 
cate themselves any more. The great gain was that, dcr 
prived of drink, they would be eager to end the voyage. 
This would certainly improve my authority, and strengthen 
my hands to keep them clear of Mi*s Franklin. 

Few landsmen can imagine the fascination drink has 
for most sailors. Artful skippers will reconcile crews tc 
the hardest labor by the administration of an extra dram 
a day. Deprived of his ^^tot” Jack finds life a burden. 
He becomes a skulker, and will even turn pirate to recover 
his beloved draughts of pisco, rum, or th^ liquid fire man 
ufactured by the Chinese. 

The strong wind blowing from the south held to us for 
a whole week. As we dropped the latitudes, making equal 
gains in longitude, the seas grew longer and Ireavier, and 
the wind colder. Pilot jackets, sea-boots, and mittens 
were now in demand, and the watch on deck haunted the 
warm air of the galley throughout the day. 

Dispensing with the royals, I clung manfully to the rest 
of the canvas, and made some sjilendid ^^runs/^ though 
at an expense of sweating’’ spars, gear, and timbers 
which no owner would have commended me for. 

A sight it was, on the dark nights, with the frosty stars 
twinkling overhead, the Magellan Clouds a haze in the 
heavens, and the Southern Cross beaming its bright jewels 
upon the weltering sea, to stand aft near the wdieel (which 
usually kept two men gripping with muscles like eggs 
under their sleeves, and* the perspiration thick on their 
-foreheads), and wa^-cli the Little Loo ^’ipping it through 


194 


LITTLE LOO. 


the water, leaping from wave to wave, kicking up her lieels 
to the splashing roar of froth like the bold and saucy jade 
that she was, plunging her figure-head into the foam which 
she heaped up into an acre of seething white before her, 
while every timber groaned, every shroud screamed, every 
sail shouted under the tide of wind volleying into its belly, 
and rushing with an extra swoop of fierceness from under 
the foot of it. 

I was as much on deck at this time as if I had been the 
lawful and responsible commander of the brig, timed for 
a special run, with a heavy wager at stake if I sprung a 
spar or lost a sail. 

The men appeared perfectly satisfied with me, and 
chuckled as they looked over the vessel’s side and up aloft. 
Clear signs in their cond«uct showed me their eagerness to 
get this part of the voyage done; and now and again cau- 
tiously sounding them as they stood at the wheel, I gath- 
ered the existence of an element of anxiety, the reaction 
following their lawless exploit. They had, for all they 
could tell — and their intention stood for the deed in their 
coarse understandings — murdered the Captain and mate; 
they were in possession of the brig, but they had no plans, 
and in the future was the uncertainty that worried them. 

And in this, though my thoughts had quite another 
meaning, I sympathized with them. 

My future was as uncertain as theirs; nevertheless, I 
was not quite barren of projects, and would unfold them, 
as they came into my head, to Miss Franklin. 

The arrangements I made for her safety were systematic 
enough, so far as they went, and my scope was very lim- 
ited. Every night I locked her securely in her cabin. A 
loaded revolver, which I had found in the skipper’s locker, 
was always in my pocket by day, and under my pillow 
when I turned in; and this weapon — though I made no 
talk of my intention to her, as God knows the poor girl 
was filled with enough fancies to keep her in a constant 
state of terror — I was prepared to draw upon the first man 
that should touch the handle of her door or attempt to 
force himself into her presence. I further took care that 
no one should approach her but myself; her meals were 
legularly taken by me to her cabin, so that she remained 
as secret and buried as any harem damsel. 

Old Banyard had my confidence, but I distrusted Dea- 


LITTLE LOO. 


195 


con. He had a trick of asking after Miss Franklin, and 
once importuned me to let her sit at table with me, saying 
that the sight of her pretty face made the voyage pleasant, 
and that he thought it was hard upon her that I should 
keep her locked up as if she were my prisoner. 

Ho said this with a queer expression in his eyes, and 
the oddest look that I ever saw on the human face. 

I answered him very shortly, and, as was usual with 
him when I addressed him storm ily, he was silent. 

However, this determined me to transplant him to his 
native soil, the forecastle, if I could possibly find an ex- 
cuse for so doing. It was enough that I did not think 
him in his right mind. Sundry hints had been given me 
of this by his eyes and his laugh, and his engrossed air at 
moments when all about him was astir. 

I had partly resolved to put it to the crew that he was 
not seaman enough to be trusted with the safety of the 
brig, and to leave it with them to choose a first mate in 
his stead. But I did not care to act precipitately. He 
was high in their favor, the arch-conspirator, the pioneer 
of their fortune; he had always professed gratitude to me 
for saving his life, and I should be acting insanely io 
make him my enemy for the want of carefully considering 
how to edge him out of my end of the brig. 

At the end of eight days the gale, which had given us 
the magnificent run of- sixteen hundred and twenty-eight 
miles, dropped slowly, beginning to decrease at ten o’clock 
in the morning, and leaving the sea silk-smooth and unruf- 
fled by a breath of air at five o’clock in the afternoon. 

Calms in these oceans last, as a rule, for so short a time, 
that the sea has never time to go down. We lay rolling 
upon a glassy swell that ridged the horizon all around 
with mountains, the vessel being under command of 
neither rudder nor sails. It was not possible to walk a pace 
upright and without holding on: it was dip, dip, first this 
side and then that, the lower yard-arms alternately sipping 
the salt, and the water washing to a level with the bul- 
warks. Overhead was a steel-colored sky, and in the 
south lay a fog-bank, hanging dead as a mountain mist 
low upon a lake. 

Finding the quicksilver pumping” in the barometer, 
and distrusting the calm as you would a couchant tigress, 
I snugged the canvas down to single-reefed topsails, and 


196 


LITTLE LOO. 


had cause to congratulate myself on my foresight: for ^ 
little before eight o’clock it came on to blow from the 
north-west^ and in an incredibly short time the wind 
increased from a moderate breeze to a heavy gale, which, 
raising a cross sea, set the brig laboring furiously. 

We were now braced sharp up on the starboard tack, 
topsails close-reefed, and reaching under these and reefed 
foresail, and not another inch of canvas could the brig 
have carried. Heavy clouds came up with the gale and 
drenched the decks with alternate storms of hail and rain,, 
accompanied by several vivid flashes of lightning. How- 
ever, the strength of the wind mastered the south swell, 
and gave us a less sloppy berth on the great north-westerly 
rollers, and as we could lie our course, and were making 
fair way, I had not great cause to grumble. 

All hands went below to change their clothes at eleven 
o^clock, the watch to turn in, two hands being on the 
look-out, and Banyard in charge. In one sense this rough, 
weather was helpful to me: it not only kept the men 
quiet, but made them understand my importance. In a 
word, had I refused to work the brig, there was not a man 
Qii board whg would have known whether he was heading 
her right twelve hours after I had given up charge. -3 

Tired and drenched through, I quitted the deck along 
with the rest of the men, meaning tofliave one advantage 
over them in a pull at the brandy bottle. On going b«low 
I glanced in the direction of Miss Franklin’s cabin, the 
door of which I had not yet locked, owing to my detention 
on deck. It was open, and swinging from side, without 
banging, with the rolling of the hull. 

' I thought this odd, the more especially as her cabin w^as 
in darkness; and was going to shut the door, but it 
occurred to me first to light a lamp and look round the 
cabin before turning the key. 

Her sleeping-place was a sacred object to me, and it was-, 
only the overwhelming fear of danger lurking near that 
vanquished the scruples which held me back. Holding; 
the lamp, I approached and called her name softly. She 
did not answer. I advanced another step 'and stood in 
the door, and beheld her sound asleep, her sweet face 
slightly smiling in her slumber, her rich dark hair, partly 
gat^liered up and partly loose, lying on the pillow. 

There was something exquisitely touching in the sight. 


LITTLE TiOO. 


of her sleeping: in the appeal put forth to my manhood ■ : 
for protection by her closed eyes and soft, unconscious - 
smile. There she lay at rest while the cabin groaned to 
the plunges of the brig, and the foam of mighty wayes 
roared their thunder under the counter almost beneath 
her. 

I held the lamp over my head, and beholding a shadow 
behind the arm-chair, in the corner of the caMn, darker ' 
than the chair would project, I crept up to it, and in ti 
second my right-hand was on Deacon’s throat. 

The sight of him there put the strength of a giant into 
my arm. One stifled, choking sob he gave, as I hauled 
him out through the door; speak he could not, for his > 
windpipe was flat between my fingers. I looked at Miss 
Franklin — she had not stirred. Still holding my man, I 
put the lamp on the table, closed the door, then let the 
villain go. He fell flat at my feet. 

I trembled from head to foot. I was mad with rage. 
Such was my fury, had he stirred, I should have fastened 
upon his throat again, and never let go my hold till my . 
strength was wasting on a corpse. 

Entering my cabin, I seized some chest-lashings, and 
bound the man’s legs and arms. I then dragged his sense- • 
less body to his own cabin, tossed him into his bunk, tip- 
ped over his face a bucket half full of water, which stood ^ 
at hand in the pantry, and which, I believe, the cook had 
used for washing up liis dishes, and closed and locked the 
door. Then, going to the foot of the companion ladder, 

I hailed Banyard, — 

^^ril stand Deacon’s watch to-night. Eouse me up 
when the time comes.” ^ 

He asked no questions, and taking good care this time 7 
to lock Miss Franklin’s dooiv and looking to my revolver 
before I put it under my pillow, I threw myself down and 
went to sleep. 


% 

' CHAPTER XXXIII. 

IHAKAKGUETHEMEJ?-. 

Xext morning, when the crew were. at breakfast, I told * 
the cook to send them aft as I had something very par- 
ticular to say to them. - » 


198 


LITTLE LOO. 


They arriyed speedily, wondering what on earth was 
the matter,^ and casting their eyes round suspiciously. It 
was a hard job to talk to them, for the motion of the leap- 
ing brig kept one reeling like a house in an earthquake, 
and the wind being well forward, the spray, as the seas 
burst against the vessel’s side, blew aft like a squall of 
; rain, and kept the eyes smarting with the salt. 

; - Standing among them, I stated that Deacon had acted 
traitorously to me, and was proceeding, when, finding 
that the man next to me could scarcely ear my voice, I 
desired all hands to step into the cabin. 

First,” said I, addressing the rough audience as they 
squatted, some on the benches, and some on the table, 
letting fly their tobacco juice on the carpet with great un- 
concern, Deacon must be produced to hear the charge I 
have to make against him; and, pointing to his cabin, I 
directed a couple of men to fetch him out of his bunk. 

Now I had no notion of the effect my squeezing of his 
windpipe had produced, and could not imagine, there- 
fore, whether his body would be hauled out dead or alive. 

Beauty and Jimmy went to fetch him, and very much 
astonished were all hands when he was brought forth, 
bound hand and foot. His eyes were wide open, however, 
and when he saw me, he shouted, — 

^^Of all cursed, inhuman tricks! think, mates, of his 
having left me sweltering in my bunk since twelve o’clock 
last night — half suffocated with grease, my circulation 
stopped — nothing but cramp upward! Cut me adrift!” 

^Ht’s lucky for you,” said 1, waiting until they had 
freed him, and he had beaten his breast, and stretched 
himself, ^^that I didn’t stop your circulation for good 
.and all. The crew are here to listen to my complaints, 
and they shall judge.” 

^^Did ye lash him yourself like that?” inquired Welchy. 

Yes,^ I did,” said I. 

They seemed greatly amused and astonished, and were 
beginning to banter Deacon, when I silenced them by be- 
ginning my story. 

Having narrated how I found the scoundrel skulking in 
Miss Franklin’s cabin, I appealed to them: 

‘"‘^For the last eight days, mates, I’ve been your skipper, 
and done my work like a man: been up through the night, 
looked after your safety, and carried you a long stretch 


LITTLE LOO. 


199 


toward your island. Whafc was your agreement with me? 
That the lady was to be left to me, and all hands swore 
they’d not interfere with her. All of you, with one excep- 
tion, have kept your promise like men. And I have kept 
my promise, haven’t I?” 

‘‘ That’s right enough,” they answered. 

^^You only,” I thundered, turning upon Deacon, and 
holding m} clinched fist toward him, have broken your 
word — you, whose life I saved, and who ought to be more 
my friend than any other man aboard the brig. If I 
tiirow up my charge, and suy to the men, ^The promise 
you made me is broken; I’ll not navigate the vessel another 
foot!’ if I say this, and she comes to harm, and the crew 
are seized, and hanged or imprisoned for life for piracy 
and murder, who will they have to thank? You!” and I 
stared into his white face amid dead silence. 

^^JSTow then, wot’s all this?” cried Beauty. ‘^Wot’s 
Deacon been doin’?” 

Didn’t I tell you that I found him skulking behind a 
chair in the lady’s cabin last night?” I shouted. 

Here Deacon sprang up, and waving his arms melo- 
dramatically, cried out, I own Jack Ohadburn caught 
me in his wife’s cabin.” 

Sink that foolery!” I exclaimed, furiously. I’ve got 
a clear meaning, and you shall know it in a minute.” 

^^I went there,” he continued, ‘^not to touch, but to 
admire. Mates, I’m a lover of beauty. When is beauty 
more divine than when it’s asleep? l^ord! I’d give my 
right arm for a pint of rum! Curse you, Ohadburn, you’ve 
made my mouth as dry as a baked sponge. Come, hand 
us a swig from your private collection, and let the past be 
buried.” 

Some of the men began to laugh, others to grow im- 
patient, and old Sam growled that he wanted to finish his 
breakfast, and would never ha’ left it, had he known he 
wur called away to listen to nothen but blazin’ nonsense!” 

‘^It may seem blazing nonsense to you,” said I; ‘‘^but 
I’m in earnest, and I’ll give you my meaning in a few 
Avords. If Deacon remains aft I shall refuse to navigate 
the brig. He has broken his promise, and if you don’t 
make him clear out of this,^ I’ll burn my log-book, and he 
shall carry the brig round the Horn himself.” 

Deacon looked hard at me, but did not speak. The 


LITTLE LOO. 


^00 

men examined my face, and seeing my temper and earnest- 
ness, grew restless. 

-^‘Look here/’ cried Welchy; ^^the question is, who’s of 
most, consequence-— Ohadburn or Deacon? I say Ohad- 
b urn is/’ 

Sniggers, ye haven’t acted fair,” shouted Suds; Jack’s 
kept his word to us, an’ I’m for backin’ him.” 

These two voices were sufficient to make all hands 
unanimous. 

We’ll leave ye to manage this here business as you 
like,” one of them cried, ^^^air’s fair.” 

‘‘ Choose a mate from among you, then,” said I. 

^‘^IJnderstand this,” exclaimed Deacon: I’m not going 
^ fight against what you consider right. If you think 
Jack has been wronged by me, because I had a mind to 
see what a pretty woman looked like in her sleep, then I’ll 
shut up. I’ll own fast enough that we can’t do Avithout 
him,' Let any man be chief mate in my place. I say, 
hang the berth! I like sleeping in all night,” 

You hear what he says, mates. Choose your man, 
and let’s make an end of this,” I exclaimed. 

calls upon Beauty to take orfice,” said Sam. 

But Beauty bluntly refused. 

Then Suds was hit upon; but he politely informed them 
that He’d see ’em blowed fust! he wur an able seaman, 
he Avur, and never wanted to be nothen else.” 

The offer went round, but was flatly declined by one 
and'all. Alarmed lest they should fall back upon Deacon, 
I said, — 

•^ I’li be mate as well as skipper, if you like. I’ll keep 
watch and watch with Banyard.” 

Eight you are!” they shouted. 

This matter settled, they went tumbling up the ladder 
in high good humor, the whole aflair, so significant to 
me, being treated by them as a joke. 

I caught hold of Deacon, and detained him until the 
cabin Avas cleared, and then, towering over him (I was half 
a head taller than-he), I exclaimed, in the fiercest tone I 
could assume, — 

You may bless your stars that I didn’t kill you last 
night. Understand this, you rascal, and gather your 
brains together to take in what I say: not a hair on that 
girl’s head shall be injured whilst an ounce of power is left 


LITTLE LOO. 


201 


in this fist/^ thrusting it under his nose. You no longer 
belong here, and will have no business to enter the cabin. 
8o, if I catch you aft, I shall put your presence down to 
some foul motive, and shall deal with you with about as 
much compunction and tenderness as ypu dealt with Cap- 
tain Franklin.” 

I never knew a man with such a temper as your’s,” 
he muttered, trying to meet my eyes, but quite failing' to 
do so; don’t pester me with any more of your murder- 
ous threats. You nearly choked me last night, and you 
left me to live or perish, just as it might happen, alone 
in the cabin chere. That wipes out your score against 
me for saving my life. We’re quits now, and I owe you 
nothing.” ' 

So much the better. My compact with you and the 
men is clear; they are willing to abide by it, and I’ll serve 
them. But you ,, . I know you! I have looked deeper 
into you than you imagine, and have d iscovered what your 
mates don’t guess at. There’s a secret behind your story I”' 

This was a bold thing for me to say; it was putting my 
suspicion of his madness into words. But it was forced 
out of me by my temper, and being said, cauld not be re- 
called. 

He looked at me with a queer and dangerous, expression 
in his eyes, and something like a spasm contracted and 
hardened his mouth. Then out went this look from his 
face, and an air of horror replaced it. He glanced around 
him and asked me what I meant. 

If you can’t imagine, I needn’t explain,” I replied. 

Come, go forward now, and leave me to do the w^ork 
you’ve brought upon me, and above all, let there be no 
interference there and I pointed to Miss Franklin’s 
cabin. 

So saying, I turned away, and he Avent up the com- 
panion-ladder slowly, pausing midway to look round upon 
me with an utteTly absorbed air. 

His manner quite decided my conclusions. I might in- 
deed have, judged him ‘^touched” by signs as old as the 
e^liest part of the voyage, had I not been a heedless ob- 
server. It was a queer discovery to make, and now I had 
made it, I did not know what to do with it. 

When Banyard w^ent on deck, I knocked on Miss Frank- 
lin’s door to take her breakfast to her, and learn how much 


203 


LITTLE LOO. 


"“she knew of the danger she had been in. My punctuality 
had taught her to be ready for me; I found her dressed 
and waiting. 

She greeted me with her rich smile, that threw a light 
all over her face, and asked me what had brought t^ men 
into the cabin. She had tried to hear what they sdad, but 
what with the door being shut and the heavy creaking 
going on all around, she had only caught a few words, and 
these had given her no ideas. 

I 'preferred to leave her in ignorance of the matter, 
little loving to see the delicate bloom fade off her cheeks 
and her eyes grow wild and swimming; and by help of 
a white lie, I left her to imagine that the men and I had 
been discussing navigation. 

But, ’’said I, one good thing has happened; Beacon 
ha^ thrown up his post .and gone forward. So now you 
Thrill have only Banyard to meet at table, and he will not 
hurt you.” 

This piece of news heartened her up, for she thought 
Beacon a fiend, having heard me speak of him as the 
ringleader of the mutiny. 

J have been thinking and thinking,” she said, leaning 
her chin on her little hand, and fixing her lustrous eyes 
on my face, ‘Miow we are to escape from these dreadful 
men. If they were to put you and me in a boat, could 
we reach the land?” 

^^f^ot easily,” I answered gravely. 

Where are we now, Mr. Chadburn?” 

Edging away for the southernmost point of South 
America, called Cape Horn. When we round it, we shall 
.sail into calm seas and beautiful weather; and then, and 
not till then, I will help you to think how we are to get 
back to England,” 

She clasped her hands and cried, — 

There is happiness in hearing you speak those words. 
Bear England! What would I give to be there!” and 
then, hiding her eyes, she exclaimed, in' her flute-like 
voice of trouble, Every time the vessel rocks I think of 
my poor brother. Oh, Mr, Chadburn, tell me you belieye 
he is safe!” 

A This was a consideration I never liked to tackle, object- 
ing to the hypocrisy of the answers it forced from me, 
and because (to be perfectly candid) it did not wei^h- so 


LITTLE LOO. 203 

very much on my mind, seeing the ugly fix we ourselves 
were in. 

I answered her as a parson would, and went to the next 
point at full speed, to get away from the subjecc. 

Do you know,’^ said I, t have discovered that our 
friend Deacon is mad?’’ 

Mad!” she echoed, rounding her eyes. 

I nodded emphatically. 

^^Not wholly mad. He never rages. There’s a flaw in 
his wheel- work: he keeps unearthly time.” 

^^He is certainly a very odd-looking person; quite ugly 
enough to be mad,” she said, with the delicious simplicity 
of tone that always made me smile. 

‘^^Do you believe in his story about the gold?” I askbd. 

I have never thought about it,” she replied. I have 
been too frightened to thiiLk of anything.” 

‘^Old Banyard doesn’t believe it, but all the rest of the 
men do, I fancy. True or false I shall steer them to this 
island, providing it has an existence.” 

And if it does not exist?” 

Then I'll put them ashore' somewhere else, if they’ll 
let me.” 

How could they stop you?” 

Oh, if, on the land we make, they see a house, or a 
flag-pole, or the spars of a ship, or any sign of civilization, 
they would soon oblige me to sheer off. I do not reckon 
upon our escaping them in this way: they will watch me 
too narrowly. A desert island would suit my hoj3es better 
than a populous one.” 

She looked at me with a terrified expression which I 
could not account for, until it flashed upon me that she 
might think — 

Not for us to stay upon,” said I. Were you think-- 
ing of Paul and Virginia?” 

She blushed rosy, but looked very sad. 

Ah, Miss Franklin,” 1 sighed, some of these days 
you’ll be looking back upon these cruel times, long after 
I have utterly vanished out of your sight, and then, maybe, 
you’ll recall me just to mildly reproach yourself for refusing 
the confidence which that young sailor chap, called Jack 
Chadburn, begged you to give him.” 

She looked at me earnestly, exclaimed, some of these 


' 204 : 


LITTLE LOO. 


days ’’—stopped and whispered, am a foolish, little 
coward ” — and stopped again. 

^^Here am I keeping you from your breakfast/’ said I. 


CHAPTEE XXXIV. 

OFE THE HOR]^. 

Eor some days we battled with a strong gale blowing 
from the west. Then it veered to the old quarter that 
had given us our famous run. We shook the reefs out, 
and packed on all plain sail that the brig could carry; 
and with our coppered stem smiting the great green waves, 
we danced like a bounding ball along our course. 

The cold jo’ nights Avas now intense, a^nd it was bitter 
enough in the day. Heavy snowfalls would encumber our 
decks, and the touch of iron was like a burn to the skin. 
The rigging froze hard as steel; fakes of the coils of the 
running gear were glued together, and were thrown hard 
upon the deck to break them adrift. 

Exempt from the duty of going aloft, I could neverthe- 
less appreciate the sufferings each journey into those bleak, 
exposed heights entailed; the pitiles-s gale howled Avith an 
edge of pain through the desolate black rigging: the rat- 
lines were slippery with a glaze of ice; the reef-points 
Avere frozen into toughe- ed Avire: and the very sheaves in 
the blocks Avere rigid o.: uie pins, and required extra pur- 
chase, extra hands, and now and again a spell of winch or 
capstan Avork to set them revolving. 

Whatever might have been the disposition of the men, 
these were not- the latitudes for them to air their humors 
in. The cold numbed their passions as it froze their 
fingers. They cursed the want of rum, and compensated 
themselves, when the weather permitted — for often no 
fire could be lighted in the galley for a couple of days 
together — by boiling coffee. 

In this Avise Ave drew near Cape Horn, the albatrosses 
poising themselves over our Avake, and the boobies flap- 
ping their awkward wings over us. 

Paying close attention to our dead-reckoning, I Avas, 
nevertheless, fortunate enough to obtain frequent sights. 
The chronometers in the cabin Avere fine pieces of me- 


LITTLE LOO. 


205 


clianism, and fche charts were new. Indeed, nothing about 
the brig and her furniture but would have silenced the 
most critical. 

The longer 1 commanded her, the better 1 grew ac- 
quainted with her many fine qualities, the more I loved 
her. The notion of saving her from the men who had. 
seized her, and sailing her home — my sweetheart'on board, 
and the freight in the hold uninjured — became a passion 
in me. 

Here was an honest dream of sea-romance! 

But it was all an idle hope in those days — that, and 
more which concerned my heart nearly. 

One Thursday afternoon, an incident occurrecj which, 
whilst it fully confirmed a conjecture of mine which is 
written in the last chapter, should threaten, one might 
think, to give an entirely new character to the undertak- 
ing which the crew, in their madness, had imposed on 
themselves. 

Up to this day we had sighted no ice; we were now in 
latitude 57° 30°. For the last week I had stationed a 
couple of hands, day and night, on the look-out; keeping 
a sharp look-out myself in the darkness, and directing 
Banyard to do the same. At midday it was blowing strong 
from the westward of south, the brig close-hauled on the 
port tack, under double-reefed topsail, lying up with 
shivering leeches, for I wanted no northing, with Cape 
Horn li&ly to expose its desolate, broken ice-girt rocks 
on the lee bow. A very high sea was running, and never 
did the ocean look more melancholy and wild; the torn 
clouds, hurrying like smoke over a pale sky, a single 
albatross astern, gleaming upon the pouring green, swoop- 
ing in raids upon the hurling waters, and falling and rising 
on the wing in rhythmic evolutions, corresponding with 
the foam of the waves. 

Ever and again the seas burst in mountains of spray over 
the brig’s bows, high as the foreyard, and fell with a voice 
of thunder upon the hollow decks. 

■ Suddenly the wind dropped, and left us rolling furi- 
ously. The sky cleared up, and the wintry sunshine 
sparkled crisply on the soused decks. What did this be- 
token? I looked anxiously round, but the horizon was 
unbroken. The pitching and rolling were frightful. I 
called the watch, and hauled taut everything, but I every 


206 


LITTLE LOO. 


moment expected to see the top gallant masts snap off,, 
and heartily regretted that my objecting to set the crew 
to any work they were likely to resist had prevented me 
from sending down the royals a week ago. 

Half an hour after the wind dropped, a black cloud rose 
in the south-east. I watched it for a few moments. It 
soared rapidly, extending its black leng.th, and looking 
like Night herself coming down upon the brig. 

I shouted for all hands, ready to man the braces and 
stand by the topsail sheets: and scarcely had they tumbled 
up Avhen the squall was on us, screaming like a tornado. 
AYith it came hail heavy as musket- balls; hurled by the 
fury of the wind, they struck us upon the head and face 
with a force to deprive us of breiith and almost to stun us. 
Not a man could face the discharge, and it rattled upon 
the oil- skins and sou’- westers of the men at the wheel 
until the sound was like the pouring of shot into a tin 
pan. It was now as dark as night. With the hurricane 
on the port quarter, the brig drove like a vision through 
a fog of hail and sleet and spray. 

This was true Cape Horn weather; the tears squeezed 
by the cold out of our eyes freezing on the eyelashes, a^nd 
the pain in the fingers sharp enough to keep one gi'oaning. 

As if the darkness thrown by the pall of cloud were not 
sufficiently discomfiting, the snow, taking the place of the 
hail, fell furiously. So thick was it, that the two men on 
the forecastle were not visible from the wheel. 

Nothing could exceed the wonder of the spectacle of 
the snow as the driving tempest churned it up; whirled 
to right and left, it filled the air with fantastically shaped 
masses, and we seemed to s\v^ep through an ocean of 
steam, or in the spray from a cataract, the smoke where- 
from was vast enough to fill the heavens. 

Both topsails still spread their canvas to the wind, and 
under this the brig flashed through and over the tremen- 
dous seas like the albatross that still sped after us. 

I sent the men below, but told them to hold themselves 
in readiness for a shift of wind, or for .heaving the brig 
to, and I roared to the two hands forward to keep a sharp 
look-out ahead. 

After a bit the heavy snow fall thinned, the sea opened 
around us, but not many ship’s lengths. The sleet and 
rain, and the spray lashed up out of the water by the 


LITTLE LOO. 


^07 


\ 

wind, heavily fogged the atmosphere, and added to this 
was the early night flung upon the deep by the somber 
expanse of cloud. 

All on a sudden there came from the forecastle a loud 
and fearful cry. 

^‘Hard up! hard up! for God’s sake! ice right ahead!” 

I never stopped to look — indeed there was no need to 
look; my scent was keen, and I could smell the ice per- 
fectly. 

I shouted to the men to put the wheel hard over. The 
spokes flew round like an engine-wheel — and not a second 
too soon; for on the port bow there leapt out of the mist 
and snow an iceberg, the dimensions of which, magnified 
by our own amazement and the whirling atmosphere 
through which we surveyed it, seemed as colossal as a 
cathedral. 

In sober truth it was a terrific pile, with pinnacles 
burying themselves in the mist, with huge ravines and 
nodding rocks bleached with snow. The mountainous 
seas thundered up its sides, dislodging, as we rolled past, 
a gigantic side of ice, which fell, crackling like heavy ex- 
plosions of mining powder, into the sea, and shut up a 
solid column of foam as high as our foretop; the tempest 
of wind wreathed the snow in wild, rushing, eddying 
circles all about the fearful brow and peaks of the berg. 
The whole mass rocked like a leviathan vessel to the 
action of the sea, and every instant portions were detached 
from it, whilst it creaked with sounds as though it were 
yielding to some internal convulsion, and were about to 
split in a thousand pieces. 

The roaring of the sea at its foot, and the broad sheets 
of foam hurled upon it, were the finishing touches to a 
picture, the sublimity of which appealed to both eye and 
ear. 

As we staggered past it, the floe, consisting of the lumps 
that had been detached and floated in its neighborhood, 
pounded against the brig’s bows and under her chains, and 
one piece we ran foul of was of such formidable dimen- 
sions that the blow resounded throughout the brig, and 
brought all hands out of the forecastle, thereby saving me 
the trouble of calling them. 

Scarcely had we escaped this frightful peril when again 
came the dreadful -cry, ^‘Ice right ahead!;’ 


LITTLE LOO. 


■eo8 

If ever,! stood in need of a cool head I wanted it then; 
and yet, as if this were a crisis destined to test my presence 
of mind to the uttermost, scarcely had this cry reached 
my ears when one of the men at the wheel, suddenly 
shrieking out: There’s the island! there’s the island!” 
leapt across the deck, and s^Drang into the main riggingo 

The wheel was jammed hard over, and to keep it in 
. that position the fully exerted strength of two men was 
required. When, therefore. Deacon — for he was the mad- 
man who had jumped from it — let go of the spokes, it 
spun round, carrying the other man with it, and before I 
could ;have drawn a breath, it had dashed him bleeding 
and senseless against the bulwarks. 

I had caught hold of the spokes, however, before the 
wheel could revolve a second time: and some of the crew 
rusliing aft, the wheel was jammed hard up again. 

The second iceberg was now right abeam. The brig 
had been flying round on her keel, and here she was with 
her topsails thundering overhead, her way gone, rolling 
frightfully, every huge sea that came rushing up threaten- ^ 
ing to bury her. 

^^^Port your helm!” I shouted. ^^Man the lee fore- 
braces. Kouse aft that foretopmast staysail sheet!” 

Our position was indeed critical, and not a man on 
board but knew it. Happily I could discern no more ice 
to leeward, and the two great bergs were now some dis- 
tance to windward. The one imminent danger was that 
the brig would be overwhelmed by the waves. But brave 
Little Loo! she topped the seas like a cork. Then, feel- 
ing the pressure of her headsail, she fell ofl, and her top- 
sails filled again. 

The weather now cleared up a bit, sufficiently so to en- 
able us to see the two looming icebergs to windward. 
Everywhere else the sea was clear. There could be no 
danger in heading our course whilst we could see a couple 
of miles ahead; so we squared the yards once more to the 
favorable gale, and in a few minutes had dropped the 
deadly danger of the icebergs behind the thickness on the 
horizon. 

Meanwhile, Deacon, after shouting himself hoarse in 
the main rigging, had come down, and stood leaning 
against one of the pumps, v/ith his eyes fixed upon the, 


LITTLE LOO. 


209 ^ 


deck, and his arms folded. The man who had been 
knocked insensible had come to, and been led forward. 

I went up to Deacon and asked him what he meant by 
leaving the wheel? You sojerT I roared in my anger, 
''‘^do you know that the brig was within an ace of being 
lost by your mad trick ?’^ 

Some of the men, hearing meshouting, came round me. 

Deacon raised his eyes, and I observed that they Avere 
bloodshot, and that his face was just the color of a corpse 
dead of the dropsy. He made no answer, but there Avas 
such a broken-down look about the wretch, such a help- 
less, abject, bewildered air, that in spite of my rage a. 
feeling of pity came across me as I looked at him. 

What made ye leave the Avheel, you idiot exclaimed 
Beauty, in his coarse, braAvling voice. You’d be a fine 
’un to take charge, you Avould! it AV^ere as bad as mur- 
derin’ Jimmy to leave him alone at the Avheel.” 

It wur as bad as murderin’ of us all!” shouted Sam. 

. ‘^If the brig hadn’t put that second iceberg Avell to 
vind’ard, Avhere should we be now?” 

A sudden look of madness — unmistakable even to me,, 
who knew but little of the signs of such a disease — 
gleamed in Deacon’s eyes as he cast them round. He ' 
pressed his lips closely together, folded his arms tightly, 
and uttered not a Avord. 

‘^Let him bQ for the present,” said 1. Go forward, 
boys, and get your tea. If it conies on thick I shall 
heave to to-night.” \ ^ 

We’ll soon make him ansAver,” I heard Beauty ex- * 
claim, as I turned away: presently, glancing back, I per- 
ceiA^ed they had got him by the arms and were running 
him, apparently unresisting, toward the forecastle. 


CHAPTER XXXV. , 

THE CABIH. 

I HAD, in a sense, lost sight of Deacon since I had suc- 
ceeded in getting him out of the cabin. He had gone 
into Banyard’s watch, and was' therefore generally below 
Avhen it fell to my turn to be on deck. Nothing, there- 
fore, had fallen under my. observation to prepare me for 
so decided an exhibition of hit madness. 


210 


LITTLE LOO, 


Perceiving old Liverpool Sam crouching under the gal- 
ley and warming the blue tip of his nose with a pipe^ the 
bowl of which glowed directly under his nostrils, I called 
him aft. 

Surly by nature, the intense cold and the sense of sinis- 
ter, recldesness induced in him by the mutiny had molded 
his face into an expression the sourness of which exceeded 
anything that ever I saw of the kind ih caricature. With 
a shawl round his throat, his sou’-w>ester jammed over his 
ears, his crabbed and battered face looked upon the brig 
with bad temper in every wrinkle. The want of rum was 
likewise a permanent sore on the old sailor’s mind, and 
this was just the weather to make the deficiency a stand- 
ing anguish, 

Sam,” said I, when the old man stood before me, his 
hands deep in his pockets, ^^did you see Deacon spring 
into the rigging just now, and call out that the iceberg 
was his island?” 

He nodded gloomily. 

What do you think of such behavior?” 

Think of it?” he answered, in his rumbling old voice; 

why, he’s half-witted, tliat’s whac I think.” 

^^That has been my notion ^all along; and don’t you 
begin to fancy that he’s started us all on a fool’s errand?” 

He drew powerful whiffs, expectorated, and replied, — 

That may be as it is. Wot’s put that into your 
head?’' 

His madness.” 

Yes, yes,” he growled; ^‘ that’s all very well, but it 
warn’tdiis madness as wrecked the gold -ship, mate. I reck- 
on lie showed hisself sane enough in buryin’ of the 
money.” 

He fixed his angry old eyes upon me and smoked hard. 

“ But this may be a delusion of his,” I exclaimed, struck 
by the old fellow’s stubborn faith. Madmen are full of 
fancies.” 

I don’t know nothen about that,” he replied. ^^It’s 
a'good -time ago since the wessel wur wrecked, and if he’s 
mad now, then wot I sayjs, he’s gone mad since. That’s 
my notion. Wotyou^all der-lusions is pretty often cor- 
rect, master; more truthful they is than wot’s swore to as 
truth. I’ll just tell ’ee a tale that’s come into my head. 
Tliere wnran okl woman as.liv6d next door to my mother. 


LITTLE LOO. 


211 


She wiir called a miser, and got her livin’ by scrapin’ up 
bones and such muck, and sellin’ of them. One day a 
little gell come in and told mother that Mrs. Lobb, that 
wur her name, was took ill and wanted to see her. Well, 
mother found her dyin’. Says she, ^ Mrs. Lobb, if ye’ve 
^•ot any savin’s hid, let’s know, and I’ll get ye handsomely 
buried.’ And Mrs. Lobb she says, ain’t got a half-' 
penny saved,’ and she turned to and took so many ’orrible 
oaths upon it that the devil hisself ’ud ha’ been con winced. 
Well, the old woman dies, and when they sarched the 
house, blowed if they didn’t find an old sea-boot under the 
fireplace chock full o’ sovereigns and bank-notes. Two 
hundred pound worth. That wur a delusion, do you see; 
but the sea-boot wur full all the same, mate; an’ that’s my 
way o’ lookin’ at Deacon’s yarn.” 

Having delivered himself of which, he thrust his chin 
under his shawl and returned to the galley, his legs rounded 
under him like the hind legs of a bulldog. 

The brief conversation satisfied me on one point, that 
whatever I might believe, I had no arguments sufficiently 
sound to prove my convictions to the men. And might I 
not be wrong myself in assuming Deacon’s story to be a 
falsehood? Suppose, instead of his madness originating 
the notion of the buried money, it was thQ fact oi t\\Q 
money, fts inaccessibility, the weight of it as a secret, and 
the long brooding over it, that had genei-ated the mad- 
ness? 

My doubts brought a new consideration with them. 
Whilst the men remained convinced of Deacon’s truth, 
should I be acting wisely in striving to discredit it? Ho, 
and for this reason: they might take it into their heads 
that I wished to draw them away from the treasure in 
order to possess it myself. To inspire such an idea as 
this in their turbulent, reckless minds would be to imperil 
my life, and efi'ectually end any scheme I might hit upon 
for the final rescue of myself. Miss Franklin, and the brig, 
from their criminal hands. 

This is a plain story that must go straight to the end. 
One can’t be lowering a boat and rowing away from a ship’s 
side in search of new matter. At sea the stage and scenery 
are always the same; nothing changes but the weather and 
the stars. And yet it is not over tiresome work, either. 
It is.not all sitting on ,the windlass and sailing. When 


212 ' LITTLE LOO, 

I turn this story over in my mind, I find it exciting 
enough, I assure you, whether it pleases'vour fancy or not 
— some parts of it, especially. 

At tea time that day I made Miss Franklin come out of 
her cabin and sit with me at the table. This bringing 
her out of the dreariness of her prison gave her morg 
heart; it was like old times, and made her feel less afraid 
ol the men. How sweet and fair she looked in the lamp- 
light, like alabaster, with crimson shining through her 
cheeks, and her eyes deep and luminous. She had heard 
the men tumbling about on deck, and felt the new -kind 
of pitching of the brig when she had rounded-to and 
snouted the pouring seas; but, dear heart, she had no no- 
tion what it meant — that death, ghastly and clamorous, 
had been under our rushing bows. 

What good to horrify her with- what had passed? so I 
gave her a description of the icebergs, leaving out the 
danger, and kept her open eyes riveted on me, and her 
hands clasped. 

I was m no hurry To lie down whilst I had her to 
talk to; Old Banyard marched the dark deck, and as the 
stars were shining when I came below, I had no fear of the 
•men on the look-out not sighting any more icebergs until 
we were almost into them. 

The brig’s course was above my head in the tell-tale, 
and I did not want to look over her side to know that she 
was frothing the mighty rollers which, volleying at her 
quarter, raised and rattled her onward at such a pace, 
that, two more days of such sailing, and we should be 
heading for calm waters and warm latitudes. . 

To hear her voice arid my own, above the creaking and 
groaning in the cabin, I went round to her side of the 
table. She drew her dress aside that I might, sit close to 
her, and there was a smile in her eyes when she found me 
alongside. 

‘‘I am happy when you are near me,” said she. 
only feel safe then.” 

When you saw me at the hotel in Bayport, how little 
either of us guessed what experiences we were to share 
together.” 

Only once let me get to England, and never ^ ^never 
will I go to sea again!” she exclaimed, with charming 
vehemence. 


LITTLE LOO. 


213 


I got her to talk of England and her home in Kent. 
It was strange to watch her beautiful face, and hear her 
sweet lips speaking of her garden and the flowers in it, 
her books, her birds, her occupations, a hundred trifles 
forming a delightful picture of calm, innocent country 
life, and feel the floor on which we sat rising and falling 
in heavy, sweeping movements, and think of the wild 
and desolate seas on which we tossed, the melancholy and 
ice-bound Horn within a half-day’s sail, the frightful 
danger w^e had just escaped, the perilous society of the 
men forward. 

These thouglits were in me as I looked at her, and 
listened to her soft prattle, glad that she should even for 
a short spell sink all present anxiety in calm and happy 
meinory. 

But the old dismal topic of her brother came- up again. 
Was there any chance of his being saved, she wanted to 
know? and if he reached the Cape of Good Hope, what 
would he do? Would he send a ship of war after us to 
rescue her and me, or would he go home to England? 

Now, whether Captain Franklin and Mr. Sloe were 
actually drowned or not I cannot positively assert; but 
this much I say here, and I shall be anticipating no por- 
tion of what interest this book contains by recording that 
neither Captain Franklin nor Mr. Sloe was ever heard of 
from the moment they were sent adrift from the side of 
the Little Loo down to the present hour. 

But then I was pretty certain, even in those days, that 
the skipper had perished on the very fiifSt night they had 
been set afloat; for the sea that had risen would in my 
opinion have swamped the boat had she been three times 
the size, and even if she had been furnished with a sail 
to enable her to run before it. 

However, I could not muster up courage enough to tell 
her what my belief was: vet I thought it proper to bring 
her to see the thing in a right light, and understand the 
nature of the few chances for, and the thousand chances 
against, the two men, so that by degrees I might win her 
away from those hopes of hers, founded in ignorance of 
the dangers of the deep, and reconcile her to the certainty 
that her brother was a dead man — I don’t think she took 
more account of the mate than I did. So 1 explained to 
her the peril men stood in who were left to float in an 


214 


LITTLE LOO. 


angiy sea in an insignificant quarter-boat: how, though it 
did sometimes befall that such poor wretches were res- 
cued bj passing ships, and that they sometimes managed 
to effect their own deliverance by reaching dry land, yet 
beyond all question the majority of persons so circum- 
stanced perished. 

But we were in God Almighty’s keeping, I said, and it 
was fit that we should pray for the Captain’s safety, and 
hope the best for him: but too much confidence would be 
a blunder, and since the cruel deed was committed be- 
yond recall, she would be acting wisely to let all thoughts 
of it lie aside for a while, as no speculations could do 
more than make her heart ache, and occupy herself in- 
stead with her owii perils, which, Lord knows, were bad 
enough. 

This sermon brought us to new matters, and for a 
whole hour we sat whispering hopes and schemes in each 
other’s ears. 

It was the prettiest hour I had yet passed. I had never 
ventured to bestow so much of my company on her be- 
fore: and to-night she was more tranquil, more brave in 
her thoughts, more herself again. 

I heard Old Banyard’s regular tramp overhead. Some- 
times he would stop, and though I could not see him, no 
doubt he took a squint at us through the skylight. 
Wasn’t I a numskull, I dare say, in his ojiinion, for pre- 
ferring a cold yarn to the warm climate of blankets! 

Truly, indeed, that ‘^cold yarn ” was as .pleasant to me 
as a flash of sunlight is to the mariner who has been sail- 
ing for days under thick, raw skies. My memory pictures 
us together: she, snug in a thick jacket, her white chin 
deep in the dark fur, mittens on hei* as high as the finger- 
nails, and the gleam of rings under the knitted wool, her 
dark hair coiled down upon her head; and poor Jack 
Swab, leaning forward to have her whole sweet face in his 
eyes, the water drying on the shoulders of his rough pilot 
jacket, his face stiff with the salt, and his hands so red 
and horny that for very shame he hides one in his pocket 
and disguise's the other by burjing it finger deep in his 
hair. Now and then the pounding of the waves on the 
brig’s quarter sets the bench on which we sit vibrating 
like a railway carriage; all around us the cabin-doors 
creak; above swings the lamp, making wild angles with 


LITTLE LOO. 


215 


the varnished beam: and through all and over all thunders 
the steady roaring of the gale through the rigging on 
high, and we hear the deep hum of the froth piled in a 
heap at the bow, and spreading out to form the broad 
wake that rises and falls upon the hills and in the valleys 
of water astern. 


CHAPTEE XXXVL 

WE LOSE TW^O ^lElsT. 

It is time to turn in. I am thinking so because she 
muffles a yawn. 

Hark! 

The sound of men’s boots stamping along the deck make 
an echo distinguishable from all sounds that wind and 
^ water can fling into a ship’s hollowness. The tramping 
rattled aft, and as it approached I sprang to the compan' 
ion-ladder, to bar the way to the cabin, my hand in my 
breast-pocket. 

^‘Here’s Deacon stabbed Jemmy!” roared a voice. 

He’s bleeding like a pig. - Come for’ard and bind him 
up afore he’s dead and gone!^’ 

To your cabin!” I exclaimed to Miss Franklin. 
^‘^Turn the key in the lock.” 

I watched her enter and close the door, then, putting 
on my sou’- wester, I ran on deck. The moment I emerged, 
three men began to shout at me. All that I could make 
out was_ their oaths. The wind howled furiously through 
the rigging, and the waves roared a full-toned thunder 
round the brig’s sides as they chased her and foamed un- 
der her, and rushed past her, bursting into acres of froth. 

The night v/as clear, yet dark. Overhead was the scud 
whirling across the frosty stars; the wind cut the skin 
like a knife, and to right and left were the towering black 
ridges of the Capo Horn sea. 

Silence!” I cried. One of you speak! What is it?” 

The man who answered was Suds. 

Jimmy and Deacon had a row about Deacon’s leavin’ 
of the wheel. Jimmy turned to and struck at Deacon,' 
and he outs with his knife and let’s drive at Jim’s heart. 
He’^s bleedin’ to death!” 

I broke away from them and ran forward, they after 


216 


LITTLE LOO. 


me, as fast as the slippery, swinging declrwould allow. 
Gaining the scuttle, I thrust my head into the foetid air 
and shouted, — 

Am I to CQme below ?’^ 

^^Come on, come on, for God Almighty’s sake!” canle 
an answering cry. 

Planting my hands on the combings of the hatch, I 
dropped into the forecastle. 

All the men wer^ broad awake. Legs dangled over the 
edges of the bunks. In full tarpaulin rig, some of them 
leaned, white and sick, against what support was to hand. 

On the deck, with his head on a pillow, sopping wet 
with water, and his breast open, with a black wound on 
it, and his shirt stained red as the ensign, lay the wounded 
man. And doubled up against a sea-chest, his white 
teeth showing as he snarled und^r his arm at the men, 
rolling his eyeballs frightfully, was Deacon, his legs lashed 
together in such a way that his feet were swollen and black 
with the strangulation of the blood there. 

“What could I do? the wounded man was stone dead. I 
had only need to glance at his white eyes and dropped 
undei’-jaw to know it. His fingers were clinched, and his 
face w^as an ugly mask of horror and despair and pain. 

It is. difficult to realize the picture this forecastle pre- 
sented by mere imagination. 

You may figure, indeed, the men looking down with 
white fear on the murdered corpse, their faces swart as 
Spaniards’, rolling their eyes in the glimmer of the fore- 
castle lamp on the maniac who snapped his teeth at them; 
but what shore- going fancy can hear and behold those 
accompaniments to the scene which deepened the tragic 
horror of it: the roaring of the sea at the bows, those vast 
quivering risings and plunges which swing the lamp fore 
and aft like the pendulum of a clock, while every plank 
and beam and stanchion utters a sejiarate groan or shriek 
of its own, and the deck overhead resounds to the thump- 
ing of the tons of water falling heavily on to it? 

I told the men there was nothing to be done. Jemmy 
was stone dead. 

Look where the wound is, right over his heart.” 

To help them, I pulled the bedding out of his bunk, 
and a couple of men put the corpse into it, and we rolled 


LITTLE LOO, 217 

it up and handed the ghastly parcel through the scuttle 
to lie until the morning on the forehatch. 

I then called them round me and pointed out that 
Deacon was raving mad, and had murdered his mace in 
his madness, and that he was not responsible for his acts. 
What should be done with him! 

Some of them were for bending on a tripping line to 
his- neck, running him upon deck, and flinging him over- 
board, 

^^Is not one murder enough?’’ shouted L I’ll sanc- 
tion nothing of that kind. Human blood seems as cheap 
as water among you. You called me forward to help you, 
and here I am, willing to do what I can — but don’t take 
the law out of my hands.” 

They assailed me with furious cries, shouting that ashore 
it was blocd for blood, and it should be the sam_e at sea. 
What was the use of that howling madman among them? 
I knew the reckoning of the island, and could carry the 
brig there: and they were for tossing him overboard, right 
away, before he stabbed the rest of them. . 

a" couple of the men, however, took my side, and called 
upon the others to let me have my way. Singing out to 
these to give me a hand, I caught up ? piece of lashing 
stuff, and threw myself upon the madman and made his 
wrists fast, whilst the others held his head down to prevent 
him from biting. 

We then stretched a strip of convas over his mouth, to 
keep his teeth out of our skin and silence his screams, for 
mad as he was he thought we were going to^ drown him. 
With infinite trouble, we got him on to the forecastle and 
carried him to the deck-house, where we found young 
Hardy, whom I told to clear out and get away into the 
^forecastle, if he didn’t want to be locked up with a mad- 
man all night. Then, loosening the bindings round his 
swollen legs, and removing the canvas from his mouth, we 
left him, effectually pinioned, as we believed, drew, the 
door upon him, and padlocked it. 

Having reassured Miss Franklin, I turned in and slept 
till twelve, at which hour I was routed out by Old Ban- 
yard, and went on to the black and blowing decks .with 
my teeth chattering in my head. 

The wind had drawn abeam, and was still a whole gale, 
though less furious than what it was when I left the deck 


218 


LITTLE LOO. 


last time, Eesolute to give the Little Loo all the wings 
she could carry to take her out of this maritime inferno of 
wind and ice- and wave, I set the main staysail and fore- 
sail, with the reef tied in it, and down she squatted under 
the pressure, making milk of the sea to leeward, while the 
stars flashed through her rigging as she fled up, and went 
boiling down the black and foaming mountains that raged 
along her course, 

. So through the whole dreary four hours, during which 
my eyes were occupied in looking out for ice, and my 
thoughts in wondering what on earth was to be done with 
the madman in the deck-house. 

I was out again at seven bells — half an hour before eight 
— and found the gale broken, a high sea running, and 
both topgallant sails set over the reefed topsails. The lee 
scuppers were all afroth with the water that came tum- 
bling over the forecastle. Away to windward, about three 
miles off, was a lumbering black bark, hove-to under a 
small storm trysail, her foretopgallan^ mast and jibboom 
gone. She was pitching andT’olling in such a style as no 
illustration could at all come near to express. The Dutch 
flag was seized to her lower mizzen rigging, the height of 
a man above the poop-rail, and there it stood like a board. 
It was scarcely worth our while to hoist the ensign, for we 
were passing her like smoke. She was not in distress, but 
had this not been the case, we could have rendered her no 
helpl 

I called to some of the men and requested them to stand 
by me while I opened the deck-house door and looked at 
Deacon. I hoped to find him quiet through exhaustion, 
perhaps sane again. After I should have inspected him, 
I proposed to confer with the better disposed among the 
men who had helped me to lock him up as to what we« 
should do with him. 

We accordingly approached the door in a body. Un- 
happily, there was no window to see into the house through. 
Before applying the. key, I put my ear to the door, but 
heard no sound. I theii'withdrew the padlock and pushed 
back the door, stepping aside as I did so, thinking it as 
likely as not that he had liberated himself in the night and 
would fly out: in which case, sta'nd clear! a madman’s bite 
is a horrid wound, and from such teeth as Deacon snapped 
last night the Lord preserve us. 


XITTLE LOO, 219 

Welchy, more reckless than I, put in his head, and 
yelled out. 

We all rushed in, and found the madman hanging 
dead from the roof, the rope that had bound his legs 
around his throat, and the end hitched into an eyebolt 
between the hammocks. His feet were a hand’s breadth 
above the deck, his head upon his shoulder, and his face 
— phew! we’ll just say nothing about that. 

Cut him down, Welchy,” cried I: and as the sailor’s 
knife parted the rope the corpse slipped into my arms, and 
I let it drop upon the deck quickly. 

So here were two men of the brig’s company gone out 
of life in less than twelve hours. 

The news was borne breathless to the scuttle, and aft 
tumbled all hands, and filled the house to have, a look. 

See here!” cried Suds. He’s cut his wrists to pieces 
in gettin’ ’em out o’ the lashin’s.” 

He knew the trick o’ doing it!” exclaimed Beaut}^ 
^^He jumped, d’ye see, from this chest. He warn’t mad 
enough not to know how to break his neck.” 

^^Hide his ugly mug! ’tain’t a sight for men,” muttered 
Old Sam, turning away. 

Throughout the nighf the other body had lain upon the 
forehatch. And now a couple of the men, taking palms 
and needles and twine from the sailmaker’s chest, turned- 
to and stitched the bodies up. I brought my Church 
Service out and read a few passages from the proper Office 
as the bodies were tilted off a couple of planks into the 
boiling water alongside. 

It was all done in a hurry, and may God forgive the 
lack of ceremony. I wanted the brig cleared of the ugly 
load, so that I might brace my nerves up again to deal 
with the dangers of the sea and the crew. What is the 
fate of the very best sailor who dies at sea but a toss? 
Here were two mutineers, with blood on their souls, gone 
to eternity, and what claim had they upon my sympathy? 

Indeed, awed as I was by the manner of Deacon’s death, 
by the unexpected extinction of a life rendered positively 
fantastic by its odd admixture of culture, villainy, and 
. madness, I considered his ending a fortunate occurrence. 
• Had he lived, my humanity would have been taxed to 
preserve him from the crew. I should not have known 


220 


LITTLE LOO. 


wliat to do with him: how to feed him, where to confine 
him. 

And now, would his death disturb the intentions of the 
crew? But it was eight bells, and too bitterly cold to be 
standing. Church Service in hand, and the water up to 
my ankles, on the maindeck. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

A SEA 'PAULI AMEKT. 

We had lost five hands since we left Bayport, counting 
the Captain and mate. This reduced the number of 
souls in the brig to eleven in all, and they may be cata- 
logued thus: — 

Able seamen: Sam, Suds, Savings, Beauty, Lucky 
Billy, Little Welchy. 

Apprentice: Hardy. 

Cook: Scum. 

Officer, carpenter, boatswain, and sailmaker: Mr. Ban- 
yard. 

Captain: Jack Chadburn. 

Passenger: Miss Louisa Franklin. 

We wei’e thus somewhat short-handed. Old Windward 
had never disdained to add his weight to a pull, and some- 
times went aloft. Consequently he was as good as an 
able seaman gone. Five make a great gap in a small 
company, and it behooved me to drag the brig out of these 
ice-bound dirty latitudes as soon as ever I could, lest sick- 
ness should still further impoverish our diminished stock 
of available labor. 

After breakfast I had a conversation with Banyard, 
and, asked him a plain question. 

consider you an honest man, Banyard, and shall 
deal with you openly. It is my intention to save the brig 
if I can, and carry her into port. Are you for casting in 
your lot with the crew, or will you stand by me?” 

All his old shrewdne.ss came into his eyes as he looked 
at me. 

^' If you can save the brig,” said he, ^Mt’ll be a good 
job. But I should like to know how you’re agoin’ tc • 
manage it.” 


LITTLE LOO. 221 

May I count upon your help/’ I exclaimed^ ‘‘^wheu 
ihe opportunity arrives?” 

^^Look here, mister/’ he^ said slowly. don’t want 
to get knocked on the head. You and me aren’t no 
match for the men.” 

‘^1 shall not make a hand-to-hand affair of it/’ I inter- 
rupted. have got a scheme working in my mind, 

which I hope will rid us of the men without a blow; when 
the time comes I’ll unfold it to you. What I now wanti 
to know" is, at wdiich end of the brig is your heart?” 

Why, aft.” 

‘^That’ll do/’ said 1. 

Stop a bit. I ’splained to you before why I joined 
this business. I goes where the mob’s biggest. But I’m 
no pirate. I’m for peace and ’spectability. There’s a bit 
o’ money in a savin’s bank belongin’ to a man as signs his 
name vith a cross, and that man’s me. It ain’t pirates 
as saves up their money in savin’s banks agin the calls of 
old age. Get me out o’ this mess, mister, and let the 
magistrate know as I had naught to do with it, and this 
here arm is at your sarvice and welcome.’^ 

All right,” said I; and now all you have to do' i^y 
told yoiti* jiiW and wait for those blessed things called 
circumstances.” 

Banyard should have been a Scotchman. Never was 
there so cautions an old hunks. He'had not yet forgiven 
the men for their practical joke upon him, and the gen- 
eral contempt in which they had held him, and this was 
one guarantee of his sympathy wdth me ; not to speak of 
his real anxiety to get away from the mutiny and its 
consequences. 

In a word, I had watched and sounded him for some 
days, and was well assured of his inclinations; otherwise I 
should have been a madman to put myself in his power, 
and risk my life on the chance of his keeping my inten- 
tions hidden from the crew. 

It w"as w"orth my while, how’ever, to see what thoughts 
Deacon’s death had excited in the men, and what ideas 
they now had respecting the island and the gold in it. 
So, going forward, I put my head down the scuttle and 
asked them to lay aft, and confer with me in the cabin. 

In truth, it was too cold to' stand and talk on deck. 
All the wu’appers in the world would not have kept your 


222 


LITTLE LOO. 


flesh from freezing unless you kept your legs violently 
exercised. 

Arrived in the cabin, they seated themselves round the 
table, and, to put them in good humor, I produced a 
bottle of rum — one of the bottles that had fallen to my 
share — and served the liquor round in a wine-glass. 
iTheir eyes danced in their heads at the sight of it; thirsty 
shipwrecked mariners could not have looked more gloat- 
ingly and lovingly upon a spring of water. 

I took the head of the table, and glancing along the 
row- of grimy faces, innocent of soap, their heavy black 
hands and rough attire, I opened the debate. 

‘‘Kow that Deacon has proved himself a madman by 
stabbing Jimmy and hanging himself, what notion of his 
island have you still got among you?’’ 

Beauty answered after a silence. 

We’ve talked it over, and we’ve agreed along with 
Sammy, who reckons that Deacon’s yarn needn’t be none 
the less true because he went mad.” 

I told ye that,” said Sam to me. 

So you did,” I answered; but that was before Deacon 
went raving mad.” 

‘‘Tell him that yarn about old Mrs. Lobb, Sam; if’s' 
fust-class, and reg’lar to the p’int,” shouted Suds. 

“ I have heard that too,” said I. “ What I want to 
know is, have you still, all of you, so much faith in 
Deacon’s story that you are determined to prosecute the 
voyage to the South Sea?” 

Look here!” cried Beauty; “just tell us where else 
we’re to go to, will ’ee? We want the gold, and we mean 
to get it.’-’ 

“And supposing it’s there, and supposing you get it, 
what are you going to do with it?” 

“ Why," sew it up in our clothes, and turn to and be 
shipwrecked,” replied Beauty. “That ain’t impossible, 
is it, master?” 

There was a shout of laughter, Beauty looking tri- 
umphantly round. 

^‘You’ll excuse me,” said I very politely, “for asking 
so many questions; but you see I am concerned in this 
business as well as you, and want to know what’s to be- 
come of us all when I’ve brought you to the end of yoiir 
journey?” 


LITTLE LOO. 


Oh^ you’re quite at libbuty to ax questions,” grov/led 
Sam, sucking the rim of his wine-glass: we’ll tell ye all 
we know.” 

Suppose there’s no gold, no island even: what then?” 

This was evidently a consideration they did not like to 
entertain, for they began to shout altogether, angrily, one 
of them saying, — 

^^If there’s no island, we’ll not take it that it ain’t 
there, but that it don’t suit ye to find it.” 

If it’s there I’ll find it,” I answered coldly. You 
have no right to talk to me like that, Billy. I’ve not de- 
ceived you yet.” 

But I thought to myself, even whilst I was answering 
the fellow, Whether it’s there or not I’ll find it for you,” 
which was the dull on which my scheme rested. 

Supposin’ matters to be as you say,” observed Suds, 

and there ain’t no gold in the island, and it’s all a lie, 
why then we’ll turn beachcombers, which is my notion o’ 
proper sailorin’ — shippin’ for the cruise a pocketful o’ sil- 
ver dollars to tassel the ends o’ your handkerchers with 
when ye sign articles, plenty of lush, lovely gals soft as 
pudden as sweethearts ashore, and warm winds and nothen 
to do but to smoke rale tobacky.” 

There j^e go with your murderin’ agin!” 
shouted Old Sam in a fury. ‘‘ Supposin’ there’s no gold! 
supposin’ the sea ain’t salt! supposin’ this brig’s at the 
bottom o’ the hocean, and we’re all barnacles! wot I say 

is, before we go humbuggin’ about with supposin’s, wait 
till we find out wot’s wot.” 

And in his wrath he smote the table violentlv with his 
fist. 

Master,” here interposed Savings, gently addressing 
me, there ain’t such a thing as another bottle o’ rum 
knockin’ about in one o’ the lockers, is there?” 

hfo,” replied I shortly, there isn’t. If your stomach 
wants staying, here’s the empty bottle; clap your nose to 

it, and sniff, and when you’re satisfied you’ll owe me 
nothing. Now,” I continued, turning to the others, ^^I 
suppose Deacon told you that his island is not on the ' 
chart?” 

Yes, yes, we know all about that,” cried Beauty. 

‘‘If the fellow was wrong in his reckoning, I shall be 
at a loss, of course, when I come to the place where he 


234 


LITTLE LOO. 

fixes his island. Now, since his story, if true, proves that 
there is one island in the Soii,th Sea which is not marked 
on the chart, there may be others that are not chcirted 
either. Are you following me?” 

Yes, yes — go on!” v 

It might happen that we should sight an island ||iat 
may prove not to be Deacon’s.” ^ 

Old Sam nodded. 

T shall not be able to see if the coast corresponds with 
Deacon’s sketch without running the brig close to the 
land and bringing up. This would be extremely danger- 
ous, because we might find out that the island was inhab- 
ited, that there was a man-of-war lying in a harbor, or 
cove, or creek, hidden to us, and we should be in the 
position of the man who, leaving his bundle in a cave, 
went back to fetch it, and was set upon by the lion that 
had slipped in, when he had gone away, to get a spell of 
sleep.” , 

Go on,” cried Billy, all hands is listenin’.” 

My meaning is this: to save our necks we must be sure 
that th-e land we sight is Deacon’s island, and that it is 
uninhabited, and no vessel anchored near it, before bring- 
ing up. Is that right?” 

Why, I don’t suppose that’s to be contradicted,” re- 
plied Beauty, 

We must take every precaution to guard against the 
brig’s being boarded. If that comes, I must tell you plain- 
ly I sha’n’t be able to help you. I can’t forge fresh ship’s 
papers; suspicion must be excited, whatever yarn I may 
invent; we shall be detained, taken on shore, examined, 
the truth twisted out of some of us, and then, hurrah for 
Jack Ketch and Woolloomooloo jail!” 

It’ll be a bad look-out if it comes to that,” muttered 
Beauty, scowling around him. 

Just tell us what your plans are, mister: you’ve got 
,a long head; we look to you,” said Savings. 

^^I have thought the matter over, mates, and this is my 
proposal,” I replied, looking with a great air of thought 
at Beauty’s square-jawed face: ^nhe first bit of** land we 
sight that is in the neighborhood of Deacon’s reckoning, 
we’ll approach to within three miles, no nearer. We’ll 
heave the brig to .at that, and lower away the quarter-boat 
with a couple of empty water-casks in her. Five of 


LITTLE LOO. 


225 


yon must tlien jump in and row for the shore. Should 
the island be inhabited, it will aj)pear that you have come 
to fill your casks. If it is Deacon^s island, you will take 
soundings, find out a good mooring spot for the brig, 
come back and let us know.’’ 

The men looked at each other, and there was a tolerably 
long silence. 

‘^That’ll be a safe way o’ doin’ it!” exclaimed Beauty. 

Who’s to come along in the boat — who’s to be the party?” 

Choose your own men; I’ll go along with you if you 
like,” I replied. Whoever takes charge of the boat must 
be a man we can trust: some one with ready invention, 
and good cheek to answer questions should the island' 
prove a tartar. It is for you to say if you will trust me.” 

There was another pause. I was throwing them right 
off the scent. They were bad tacticians, and not liking 
to own in speech that thdy would not trust me, admitted 
it by their silence. 

There is one point, however,” Icontinued, pretending 
not to notice the obvious meaning conveyed by their 
silence, ‘^to which I must direct your attention. If you 
depute me to go in the boat, my presence there will be 
out of order. It is not customary for the skipper of a 
fine vessel like this to go ashore along with a watering 
party. It would be the duty of one of the mates or the 
boatswain to take charge of the boat. A spark will blow 
up a powder ship: and a small hint may lead to no end of 
trouble in this case.” 

That’s my way o’ viewin’ it,” said Sam, with an ap- 
proving nod. 

Old Banyard’s an honest man, but he’s a mule,” I 
proceeded. They’d whip the truth out of him like a 
shot. I don’t advise you to choose him as coxswain.” 

You’re supposin’, of course, that the island we sight 
turns out to be inhabited?” said Beauty. 

Yes.” 

And if it ain’t?” 

Then we shall run no risk.” 

But if we wur to see houses or people movin’ about, 
we’d come away without landin’.” 

And run the risk of -being pursued! That won’t do, 
mate. You’d have to pull straight ashore, fill your casks, 
,8 


226 


LITTLE LOO. 


tell your story, and come away again like an honest boat’s 
crew.” 

Ye must be blind as a pig under water, Beauty, if you 
don’t see that,” cried Suds. 

Beauty was silent. 

Who’s to take charge then? Some one as can talk 
and bounce, that’s sartin!” exclaimed Savings. 

‘^Beauty is your man,” said I. 

He looked at me. 

Let him pretend to be bo’sun and second mate. I’ll 
tell him what to say when the time comes.” 

I’ll do it fast enough,” he replied defiantly. ‘^I’m 
not af eared. I’ll talk to em, if any questions is ax’d.” 

You have plenty of time to think these plans of mine 
over,” said I, getting up. There’s no hurry. Talk 
them over: and if you can hit upon some better way of 
securing this mutiny against the chance of detection 
through our blundering too near the wrong island, why, 
come aft with it to me, and we’ll discuss it. Gold is a 
first-rate thing, and I hope you may get it; but the hopes 
you have of lining your pockets must not lead you into 
qmdy or hand you over to the hangman.” 

I was trembling all over when they left me, so heavy 
had been the excitement under which I labored, aud 
arduous the task of suppressing it. But I was never more 
exultant in my life, for only let them carry out my proj- 
ect, and my sweetheart would be safe, and the brig her 
own ship for me to pilot her^home in. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

IK THE SOUTH SEA. 

Doublikg the Horn from the east’ard is one of the dis- 
agreeablest jobs a sailor can undertake. The gales which, 
at seasons of the year, prevail from the west, the high 
seas, the. dangerous icebergs which swarm up from the 
Antarctic regions, and the piercing cold, combine to make 
the journey one long perilous hardship. 

In our case we were fortunate enough to meet with 
southerly gales chiefly, and, wherever possible, I made the 


LITTLE LOO. 


227 


difference between a breeze and a gale of wind by cracking 
on the main -topgallant sail, often setting it over a treble- 
reefed topsail. 

Twice, however, the gale went round to the westward, 
and blew right in our teeth with such frightful violence, 
that each time I had to heave the brig to tinder bare poles. 

On the last occasion the sea was the wildest and the ' 
most terrific I had ever beheld, and ever want to behold, 
unless from the land. The wind veered round in the after- 
noon, and, piping its hardest all in a hurry, obliged us to 
clew up and furl every stitch of canvas upon her. With 
foreyards checked and main sharply braced, the brig rose 
and fell upon the gradually increasing seas. When the 
night fell, the moon, a mere phantom., danced windily 
among the rushing clouds, and just slied enough light to 
give a startling brilliancy of wh^eness to the foaming 
crests of the waves. 

Some small shelter was afforded me by the high bul- 
w^ark, but so bitter was the cold, that, every time the wind 
struck the face, the sensation was precisely as if one’s 
cheek had been laid open by a blow from a hatchet. 

That night I never turned in. Going below for five 
minutes at a time to draw some whiffs of tobacco, and 
recover my circulation in the warmer air of the cabin, T 
would return on deck, too anxious to remain absent for 
any lengthened period. The weight and magnitude of the 
waves made the situation of the brig very perilous. Lifted 
helpless one moment to the summit of a sea, which, 
breaking under her, would bury her high as her upper 
dead-eyes in the froth of it, down she would rush into an 
I abysm that looked immeasurable in its pitchy blackness, 

^ her masts slanting hard into the shrinking gale, as if with 
her yard-arms she would stave off the monstrous im]3end- 
ing wave, whose black summit looked level with her main- 
top, and whose imponderable wall built a brief calm of 
stagnant air all around her, amid which we, clinging with 
desperate hands to the sides, stood breathless, deeming it 
impossible that the brig would lift in time to escape the 
shattering tons of ebony-colored watex which looked to be 
running right over us. 

However, it would have been hard fortune indeed if 
weather like this lasted. We drew out of it gradually, 
sighting no ice until we were in-long. 80^, when the brig’s 


2-28 


LITTLE LOO. 


course was shaped and we headed with thankful 

hearts for the mild waters of the Pacific. 

The heavy load of anxiety tliat had weighed down my 
min(J had neither benefited my health nor my appearance. 
My face was thin and care-worn, and my nervous system 
was sadly out of tune. Had I ‘‘given way/^ as old women 
call it, I should have taken to my bed and gone through a 
bad illness. But indisposition was a luxury I could not 
afiord, I put forth all mj will, and kept myself in health 
by hard resolution, •which was a complete triumph of mind 
over physics, and a satisfactory proof to myself that nature 
is sometimes to be controlled and awed into complicity 
with the mind’s desires by resolute defiance of her hints. 

The crew had worked for their lives in ^oming round 
the Horn, and hard work it was for a company weakened 
by the loss of five pairs of stout hands. The cold weather 
passed, they did nothing beyond steering the brig and 
trimming yards. The neglect of the vessel was apparent 
in her aspect; her standing tigging was slack, her masts 
dirty; chafing-gear in tatters, sides rusty and browm, 
paint- work filthy: she might have been a whaler on her 
return home after three years knocking about among the 
South Sea Islands. 

However, as we were now approaching the latitudes of 
wTiich the men had been dreaming for the last ten weeks, 
I recommended certain preparations, and got them carried 
out. Banyard, as carpenter, thoroughly overhauled the 
quarter-boat, and made her tight and sound, polishing her 
off with a coating of tar and slush. The fish tackles were 
rigged up, and, working very leisurely, the men got both 
anchors over ready for use; the hedges were looked to, 
and a hawser coiled down forward. 

These and other preparations for bringing up, all which 
I superintended with a zeal under which no one who 
watched me would have supposed lay a motive directly at 
variance with the ostensible object of all this work, put a 
kind of new spirit into the crew/ and brought decisively 
home to them a sense of the reality of the undertaking on 
which ‘they were en^ged. They began to cut some of 
their old capers again; every day brought us into a softer 
and more delicious climate; the decks gleamed white in 
the sun, and behind and before us in the deepening blue 
of the water frolicked the albicores and bonitas. 


LITTLE LOO. 


229 


One glorious morning I induced Miss Franklin to ac- 
company me on deck. She shrunk at first from the idea: 
her horror and dread of the men were deep-rooted; how- 
ever, I succeeded in overcoming her alarm, and led her up 
the companion-ladder. 

She clung to my arm when her eyes met the scowling 
countenance of Beauty, who happened to be at the wheel, 
and then she threw her scared glances forward, where 
some of the men lay broad on their^ backs, smoking and 
conversing, on the lower studding-sail, which they had 
pulled open and spread for the softness of it. 

When her first fears passed off, it was one of the tender- 
est sights imaginable to see her looking round upon the 
broad blue sea and up at the white sails, with child -like 
rapture in her eyes, and her sweet nostrils quivering to 
the glory and the freshness of the breeze. For six long 
weeks had she remained below, for ever hearing the sullen 
grinding of the vessel’s timbers, the port-hole closed, and’ 
no fresh air coming to her, and all the world of heaven 
and water outside cramped down to the circumference of 
a pane of glass, which was as often under the green seas 
as out of them. 

The men looked at her Imrd, and that was all. I had 
her arm in mine, and in this way we stepped the deck; 
and when she was for pulling her hand away more for 
fear that the men would call out a rough joke to us, than 
because she was unwilling I should have it, I skid, I 
have • earned this privilege, and you must tell me I de- 
serve it.” 

Her manner was all the answer I wanted, and to and 
fro we paced, gravely as any admiral and his wife. 

The calm seas, the warm wind, the lazy movement of 
the sails, and tile society of Louisa Franklin given, I 
should have ‘been content to see the brig turned into the 
Flying Dutchman : and that should mean that we should 
remain always young, and the sun warm, and the water ^ 
calm. 

Having once broken through her fear, she came on deck 
often. The sailors never approached her, nor appeared to 
take any notice. Perhaps they knew where my heart was, 
and what sort of hand I should raise to defend her. Yet 
a better reason was, they were heartily sick of the voyage. 


230 


LITTLE LOO. 


wanted to be ashore, lining their clothes with the money, 
and clear of the danger of the mutiny. 

Here, indeed, was a distinct alarm among them, mani- 
fested to me in a most pointed fashion one day when we 
sighted a vessel steering down upon us. The moment 
‘^Sail hoP’ was cried, they tumbled aft, the glass was 
passed from hand* to hand, and the most uncomfortable 
anxiety shown. 

Was she a man-of-war? they asked me. I thought not, 
by the cut of her; yet she proved to be a man-of-war — a 
Brazilian brig-rigged steamer under canvas, standing 
S.S.E. She passed us at a distance of two miles, with 
her colors drooping at the gaff-encl. 

On this same day I called Beauty to me and inquired if 
the crew had come to any fresh arrangements respecting 
our movements when land should be sighted. 

Ho,” said ho; we’re going to carry out your plan. 
Sammy wur sayin’ that he thought three mile ,wur too fur 
off to heave the brig to. It ’ud be a six mile pull there 
an’ back. A mile off ’ud be fur enough; then with the 
glass we’d be able to see if there wur any houses ashore, 
and save us the trouble of lowerin’ the boat. 

^‘We can easily make it one mile,” I answered; ^^only 
as to sigliting houses from the deck, remember this — w'e 
may chance to make a portion of the land where no habi- 
tations are visible; to bring the brig up on the supposition 
that there is no population, without first carefully recon- 
noitering, would be madness.” ^ 

‘^That’s right enough!” he exclaimed. ^^I’m for send- 
ing the boat to have a look round, only we don’t want to 
set rowin’ six mile when two’ll do.” 

A distance of one mile would not answer my purpose so 
well as a distance of three; I pretended to yield to his 
wishes, but all the same I meant to have my way. 

To no living creature as yet had I unfolded my scheme. 
Once I had it on my mind to tell it to Miss Franklin, but 
the mere thought of whispering it alarmed me. On the 
absolute .uhsuspicion of the crew depended the success of 
my scheme, and on my scheme depended, in all probability, 
Miss Franklin’s life and mine, and certainly the safety of 
the brig. You may readily believe, therefore, that I 
scarcely presumed to let rny own thoughts dwell upon it, 
lest it should so mold the exj)res3ion of my face and in- 


LITTLE LOO. 231 

f 

fluence my manners as to excite doubts of me among the 
men. 

Indeed, my life, my love, my whole future fortune were 
embarked upon the hazard of a stratagem. God knows 
how I contrived to act the part that held the men satisfied 
with my integrity, themselves sullen and suspicious, scan- 
ning the horizon with doubting eyes, often creeping aft to 
inspect the compass, and calling upon me to produce the 
chart and show them the brig’s whereabouts. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

DEACOIl’S ISLAND. 

Thuesday, the 15th of October — this day made the one 
hundredth since we had left Bayport. 

Yesterday’s sights had shown us to be one hundred and 
twenty miles to the southward and eastward of the spot 
where Deacon placed his island. At the pace we had been 
sailing during the night, we ought to make the land some 
time in the afternoon. 

Yesterday I had deceived the crew by indicating our 
position wrongly on the chart. They had, therefore, no 
idea that we were Avithin a few hours’ sail of the actual 
spot where Deacon had placed his island. 

Among the wonders of the sea are its climates. The 
mariner, standing to-day under the shadowless equatorial 
sun, thinks with amazement, as he wipes the sweakdrops 
from his brow, of the few brief days that have passed since 
he was battling amid the snow and ice and storms of the 
Antarctic confines. 

Looking over the brig’s side at the clear blue water that 
ran with a glint and tinkle of froth aAvay from the cut- 
water, while the sun lay warm on my back, and the soft 
breeze Avas heavy with the smell of oakum and paint and 
pitch, it Avas difficult for my mind to belicA^e that only a 
few short nights ago the sea Avas pouring its mountains 
under a midnight blackness, the furious gale Avas driving 
hail and sleet against our faces, while the intense cold 
froze' the tears as they streamed from our eyes. 

Though all my thoughts concerned the preservation of 


232 


LITTLE LOO. 


Miss Franklin and the brig, I will own that I was extremely 
curious to discover whether that madman Deacon’s island 
really had existence or not. If we should sight any land 
this day, when the chart .'gave us nothing nearer than 
Teapy,' which was another day’s sail distant from the spot 
we had reached, I should probably find myself disposed to 
believe in the gold. So you will see, in spite of my argu- 
ments with the men, my mind was not yet satisfactorily 
made up on the matter. 

Under all plain sail the brig eat her quiet way along the 
smooth, long-rolling sea, and at noon I made her out to 
be, to use Deacon’s own words, true on the parallel of 
thirty degrees,” and one hundred and eighty-five miles to 
the eastward of Teapy. 

Beauty, who had evidently been appointed or consti- 
tuted himself leader of the men in the room of Deacon, 
came aft with AVelchy, and demanded to know where I 
made the brig’s position. 

I replied that we were about one hundred and fifty miles 
to the east of the place we were making for. 

When do you reckon to be there?” asked Welchy. 

With this light wind, to-morrow afternoon.” 

This appeared to satisfy them, and, after some further 
questions they went forward. I approached Banyard, 
who was sitting on the skylight, and said to him in a 
low voice, — 

‘Mf Deacon’s island is anywhere, it is hereabouts. For 
reasons of my own I have just told the men we shan’t 
reach the place we’re bound to till to-morrow. Keep your 
weather-eye lifting, and if you siglit anything that looks 
like land, sing out.” 

What do you expect to sight, mister?” 

‘'^I don’t expect to sight anything to-day. But if land 
should show anywhere upon the horizon, let me know 
instantly.” 

There is no land belonging to th^rse here parts of the 
sea as is wrote down on the chart, is there?” 

^^Ko.” 

^^Then in the Lord’s name what am I to look for?” 

Deacon’s island,” I replied, smothering a grin at the 
old fellow’s wooden face. 

‘‘Deacon’s island!” he groaned, in a voice of disgustful 
contempt. “ Ye’ll have to invent a new kind o’ spectacles 


LITTLE LOO. 


233 


for me to look out of, if that’s what I’m to watch for. I 
ain’t given to cussin’ much myself,” he continued, with 
stubborn gravity, but I’ll be damned if there’s e’er a 
pair o’ eyes aboard this we'ssel as’ll see that island this 
side o’ the universe. It’s one of them places you’ll find 
vere the Flyin^ Dutchman puts in for water. They’re 
mostly made o’ clouds they are, vithout soundings.” 

I left the old skeptic, and brought Miss Franklin on 
deck. I made a comfortable seat for her on the skylight, 
and, looking into her pensive, beautiful eyes, I whispered. 

This time the day after to-morrow. Miss Franklin, 
yonder bowsprit, if it please God, will be pointing in a 
directly opposite direction — for home.” 

She started, and looked at me with a sudden passionate 
eagerness. 

Are you in earnest?” she said. 

^‘Assuredly I am. I would not deceive you on such a 
matter, even for the sake of making your eyes brighter 
and happier for a little while.” 

Where will the men be?” 

^^Hush!” I whispered with a glance aft at the wheel. 

The very decks may have ears for such a secret as this. 
Only one man,” intimating Banyard by a slight move- 
ment of the head, ‘^is in my confidence, and he has no 
idea yet of the stratagem I am going to adopt to save you 
and the brig.” 

^^Tell me,” she pleaded, in her sweet voice: ^^you 
may trust me with all your heart.” 

A little patience. I am holding my tongue, not from 
a foolish love of the mystery of silence, but for a reason 
you will appreciate when you hear the story. I am now 
going to climb the mast to have a look round.” 

So saying, I went forward and sprang into the fore- 
rigging. The men, hanging indolently about the fore- 
castle, stared at me hard and inquisitively as I went aloft. 
I ascended as high as the fore-royal yard, from which 
elevation I commanded a view of miles and miles of sea. 
The horizon all around was perfectly unbroken, a clean, 
clear line, girdled by a heaven of brilliant blue. Eight 
away down in the south was a tiny white spot— a minute, 
lustrous fieck — a ship: that. was all. 

Deacon’s words to me had been, ^^I liave settled it to 


234 


LITTLE LOO. 


within the compass of the horizon by dead reckoning. It 
, would heave in sight somewhere from the foretopsail yard 
when the brig reached the place I believe it to be in.” 

Those had be>en his words to me, as well as I could re- 
collect them. 

From the summit of the fore- royal yard I should be 
able to see land, unless, indeed, it was a mere flat coral 
island, fully seventy miles distant, so transparent was the 
air. Yet no shadow to indicate land stained the crystal 
clearness of the water line, taking the whole circle of it. 
I drew a deep breath. In the exquisite uniformity and 
color of the horizon was the surest conviction of Deacon 
as a liar to be found. Not a liar, perhaps; a madman, or, 
more truly still, a monomaniac. - 

Was it the reading of the newspaper paragraph that had 
“ first put the notion of this tale into his head? had he 
really been shipwrecked in the Royal Oah, and, through 
the flaw in his brain caused there by the danger, imagined 
be had saved the gold and buried it? 

The secret was at the bottom of the sea. Who can ex- 
plain a human craze? All the consistencies of his story, 
all the artful details of it, the perfect likelihood of such a 
thing, above all, his own profound belief in the fancy — 
here were just the sanities required to prove the madness, 
now that the miles of blue sea gave his yarn the lie. 

The men below watched me with steadfast upturned 
faces. They looked no bigger than dolls down there. The 
ripples on the sea were invisible, and the surface was like 
an unbroken convexity of blue glass. On this lay the 
brig’s hull, a narrow streak of white deck glistening with 
the brasswork here and there, with rings of water break- 
ing from, the bows. 

I swung myself on to the topgallant rigging to shin 
doswn into the cross-trees. A thin reed of a voice trebled 

D’ye see anything?” 

Nothing!” I shouted back. 

This was no disappointment. It was not until to-, 
morrow, they believed, that they were to sight the island- 
I reached the deck and went quietly to my place^alongside 
Miss Franklin. 

I have made a discovery,” said I, smiling to see the 


LITTLE LOO. 235 

welcome her eyes gave me as I seated myself, ^^and will 
tell you a secret,^’ 

AYhat?” in a thrilling voice. 

Deacon’s island is on the chart where Lilliput, Uto- 
pia, and the New Atlantis are.” 

I do not understand you.” 

I mean that Deacon’s island has no existence.” 

Ah!” 

He was a madman, and imagined a lie and believed it 
true.” 

I never thought it true.” 

‘^Neither do I now,” said I. 

And all for a wicked delusion they turned my poor 
brother away from his ship to perish in a little boat,” said 
she, in that musical moaning voice of her sorrow, which 
was softer than the plaining of a dove. 

Not for that entirely, but we will not speak of it now. 
Let us pray that those sails up there may continue round 
all night. If they do, then this time to-morrow you will 
see a blue island coast upon the horipn out yonder,” and 
I pointed to the sea on the port bow. 


CHAPTER XL. 

OK THE EVE. 

As the time approached for the execution of my scheme, 
my anxiety was correspondingly heavy. All through that 
afternoon, and in the dog-watches until the night fell, the 
men were constantly throwing their glances ahead, and 
sometimes going aloft, exhibiting much restlessness in their 
manner, and conversing in low tones. There was an entire 
absence of the familiar boisterous laugh and skylarking” 
among them. 

I had only: to put myself in their place to understand 
the state of mind they were in. The voyage, in one sense, 
was nearly at an end; it was no longer possible for them, 
on this eve of the day that was to terminate one essential 
portion of their journey, and fulfill in some shape or other 
one particular object of the mutiny, to possess the feelings 
of reckless indifference that had animated them so far* 


236 


LITTLE LOO. 


Thay were fully sensible of the magnitude of the crime 
they had committed, and the thought of it, stifled hereto- 
fore by the feeling of security bred in them by the immen- 
sity of the seas they had traversed, a desert on which crime 
.might wander for ever undetected, was now a power, 
strong as conscience, to keep them subdued, to hold them 
anxiously watchful, and to fill them with fretful specula- 
tions as to the issue of the adventure. 

The night passed quietly. It was a night of surpassing 
beauty, the stars thick that the sky was a space of 
throbbing light. So peaceful was the motion of the brig, 
that she seemed to sleep upon the placid sea; yet, gentle 
as was the wind, each time the log was hove we were found 
to be gliding through the water at the rate of seven miles' 
an hour. 

It was my intention to regain, if possible, possession of 
the brig without bloodshed. This would be practicable if 
the men did not alter the programme I myself had sketched 
out to them. I will own. this, that underlying all my 
honest detestation of their piratical and murderous actions 
was a sneaking kindness for the crew. They had been 
my messmates. I had shared in their jokes, laughed over 
their yarns; we had gone through much rough work and 
rough weather together, and I had suffered equally with 
themselves under an odious and insupportable tyranny. 
The way In which they had revenged themselves upon the 
Captain and mate had been inhuman — altogether too 
barbarous; yet, even here, consideration of their rough, 
uncultured natures, their ignorance, and passions undis- 
ciplined by kindness, their lives a series of beggarly hard- 
ships, hard words and poor pay, would incline the most 
rigid to view their mode of recrimination with mercy, if 
the wanton and cruel provocation they received were taken 
into consideration. 

Is it not as criminal to provoke crime in others as to 
perpetrate it yourself? The Captain^ might have kept 
his men honest by kind dealing. He made them mur- 
derers, and surely the sin was as much on his shoulders as 
on theirs. 

When Banyard came on deck at midnight to relieve me, 
I stayed talking with him for half an hour. Planting 
myseif where no syllable of our whispered conversation 
could be overheard, I laid before him my plans, and rep- 


t 


LITTLE LOO. 




^sented the share I required him to take in them. The 
ingenuity of the scheme awoke a small glow of enthusi- 
asm in the old fellow. 

You may count upon me as if I was yer shadder,’^ 
said he. ‘‘Only there’s one part o’ the business you and 
me must agree nn first. Wot’s going to become o’ me 
when the brig’s got hold of agin, and we goes ashore?” 

Under the impression that he expected to receive some 
reward for helping me, I exclaimed, — 

“ Why, confound it; man! won’t it be enough for you 
that you are brought safely out of a hanging mess, and 
restored j)eacefully to your money in the savings bank?” 

“ Ay, ay, that’s right enough; but wot sort o’ a charac- 
ter am I to go ashore with, I wants to know?” 

“ The best character you could obtain — the character 
of having assisted me in rescuing valuable property from 
the hands of a gang of lawless mutineers.” 

“ That’ll do,” he said complacently. “ That’ll satisfy 
me. I shall be able to get another ship with that char- 
acter. You stick to that, mister, and you’ll find me your 
shadder when you wants me.” 

This terminated the conversation, but before going 
below I took the night-glass into the foretop and swept 
the pale space of sea carefully; then descended and 
desired Banyard to keep a bright look-out, and to instantly 
call me should any appearance of land heave in sight. 
One can never be absolutely sure of one’s reckoning. 
The smallest inaccuracy of chronometer, compass or sex- 
tant, may throw one out by some miles; and it would be 
a poor job for me to let the island of Teapy give me the 
slip in the dark. 

Four hours’ sleep was all the rest I promised myself for 
the next tAventy four hours; and even this brief spell was 
denied; for so great was my anxiety, so busy my brain, 
that it was four bells before I closed my eyes, and I Avas 
on deck again two hours afterAvard. 

The wind had veered round to the north; the brig, 
close-hauled, slanted her masts over the still, smooth 
Avatei', and was rippling along like a steamer, a Avake of 
bubbles astern, and a line of froth shooting away from 
each boAv like a sAAninmeFs arms. 

I paced the deck until the stars waned and the eastern 
horizon grew gray. Presently the sun sailed up into a 


238 


LITTLE LOO, 


heaven of silver, the wind grew sweeter and fresher and 
warmer with the early splendor^ and our sharp stem 
chipped the white foam out of water as mild and blue as 
a lake. All astern the sea was a spacious hall of light, 
with the columns of fire sunk into it by the magnificent 
sunrise. 

Seeing Beauty bending over the head-rail, with his eyes 
on the horizon, I hailed him to come aft and take the 
glass and carry it on to the fpre topgallant yard to see if 
land was in sight. 

After a long and careful inspection he shouted, 
^‘There’s nothen like land that I can make outP I 
called him down, and we hove the log and made the brig’s 
speed seven knots. Summing up her run as I found it 
out on the log slate, I informed him and Billy, who had 
come aft to hold the glass, that we should sight the land,, 
if the breeze held, at about two o’clock. 

You mean the island?” said Beauty. 

Certainly,” I answered; what other land do you ex- 
pect to make?” 

And if it ain’t there?” exclaimed Billy shortly. 

T don’t expect to find it there, as it is not laid down 
on the chart,” I replied. 

Don’t let’s have no more ifs,” growled Beauty. 

You’re headin’ true for it, I ’spose?” looking at me under 
his scowling brows. 

My answer was to bring the chart from the cabin. 

Attend to me,” said I. Here is the present position 
of the brig. This pencilmark is the spot where Deacon 
fixed his island to be. How does that mark bear from 
the point occupied by the brig? lay this ruler upon it and 
roll it up to the compass there in the corner — what is it?” 

West nor’ west,” answered Billy, who could read the 
compass, though printed words were beyond him. 

How’s her head?” I sung out to Suds, who stood at 
the wheel. 

West nor’ west,” he replied. 

The men were quite satisfied, and talked together in 
low tones. 

Some small fleecy clouds were rolling down upon us 
from the north, and this furnished me with a kindly sign 
of the breeze holding. 


LITTLE LOO 


239 


After breakfast,” said I to Beauty, ^^the crew had 
better come aft and get the quarter-boat ready for lower- 
ing, and stow the empty water-casks in her. There’s 
never any harm in being too soon, mates. What’s more, 
I may have overrun my distance, or Deacon’s reckoning 
may be out by some miles, in which case we may raise the 
island at any moment. Who’s to go away in the boat?” 

I’m to take charge of her,” responded Beaitty. 

Have you got Deacon’s drawing of the island?” 

^^No.” 

You can’t go without it. How will you know it is 
his island unless you have his sketch of the shape of the 
beach with you?” 

Hanged if I should ha’ thought o’ that,” cried Billy, 
looking at the other. 

I’ll see to it myself presently, and give you full in- 
structions,” I continued. ^MVho are the boat’s crew? 
Understand this — I want the pick of you — the most sensi- 
ble. We who are left behind will be at your mercy. If 
the island is inhabited, and one of you gets jawing, we 
may have an armed crew aboard of us.” 

It’ll be a bad look-out for the man who jaws,” said 
Beauty in a low voice, putting his hand upon the handle 
of his sheath-knife, while his eyes kindled. 

Who are your crew?” I demanded. 

There’s me, and Welchy, and Billy. If Jim wur 
alive, he’d be our man,” answered Beauty. But Sam 
may be trusted, and now we want another.” 

Savings?” 

^^b[o, we’ll have Suds.” 

•^That’s arranged, then,” said I. And, throwing all 
the solemnity I could into my manner, I exclaimed, laying 
my hand on Beauty’s arm, ^‘We, who are left behind, 
look to you as skipper of the boat to guard us against 
treachery. My life, even more than tliat of the others, 
depends upon your honesty. If you’re questioned, and 
one of you blabs, I shall suffer first, for they’d hang the 
captain elected by the mutineers, if they hung nobody 
else. Mates, I leave n^yself in your hands. I have acted 
fairly by yon, done my best, and brought you im safety to 
your destination. I look to you now to protect me.” 

See here. Jack,” shouted Beauty in his hoarsest voice. 


240 


LITTLE LOO. 


if there’s e’er a man in the boat’s crew as should turn 
sneak, I’d feel his heart, with my k-nife, if a thousand 
sogers should be a»ound him! He shouldn’t know what 
hurt him! I’d do it, if I had to jump down a precipice 
to catch him! My life’s as good as yourn, an’ the man as 
’ud turn upon me, I’d kill if he carried a hundred lives in 
his body!” 

The energy with which he declaimed this speech was 
made singularly wild and ferocious by the blasphemous 
oaths he crowded into it. It impressed me more deeply 
than he imagined, for it gave me a good idea of the sort 
of mercy I might expect at the hands of the men if my 
scheme failed, and left me in their power. 


CHAPTER XLL 

MY STKAT AGEM. 

After breakfast, in accordance with my suggestion, the 
men came to prej^are the quarter- boat, and stow the empty 
water-casks in her. When the casks came to be rolled 
aft, however, it was found that they were too big for the 
boat. ' The other boat at the davits remaining was the 
dingey or gig, smaller still; therefore wn should have to 
get the long-boat out. 

Accordingly, tackles were sent aloft, falls led along, and 
everything made ready for slinging her. 

There had been some murmurs when the quarter-boat 
was found too small fdr the casks. Suds exclaimed that he 
couldn’t, after all, see wot partickler reason there was 
for goin’ ashore: it ’ud be a bloomin’ long pull, and all 
for wot?” But Beauty struck in with a sea- blessing on 
his limbs and eyes, observing that it was too late in the 
day to be capsizing arrangements that had taken them no 
end of thinking to arrive at. 

For the general edification I recapitulated all the reasons 
we had for dispatching the boat on an. inspection trip, and 
receiving her report before bringing the brig up close to 
the land; after which I recommended Beauty to get a sail 
and mast in the long-boat, and ordered Suds and Billy to 


LITTLE LOO. 241 

go forward and bring Deacon’s chest up out of the fore- 
castle. 

In a short while they returned, the chest was placed 
upon the skylight, and opened. 

If all had been honest and straight withais, the ‘^per- 
sonal effects ” of Deacon and Jimmy would have been put 
up to auction aixd sold on the same day the men were 
buried. But among us mutineers there was no discijffine 
or law to regulate our procedure; the dead men’s chests 
were left to knock about the forecas'tle, the crew using 
what they found inside as they happened to want the 
things. 

Deacon’s chest was therefore nearly empty of clothes. 
What I required, however, was still in it, i,e. the old 
leathern case and various sheets of paper over-scrawled 
with rude sketches of the imaginary island coast. In ad- 
dition to these were his books (a* wormy, greasy library), 
some odd shoes, broken tobacco- pipes, and such odds and 
ends of rubbish as sailors love to store. 

Extracting the newspaper from the case — that news- 
paper which was, like Goldsmith’s muse, 

“ The source of all our joy, and all our woe,” 

I read aloud the paragraph relating to the Royal Oak^ in or- 
der to kindle afresh the enthusiasm and desires of the men, 
and make them a more willing boat’s crew. I their folded, 
the paper, and, turning to them with an air of great 
gravity, addressed them as follows, — 

“Whether the land which, if Deacon’s reckoning be 
true, we should make some time this afternoon, be his 
island or not, the passage I have just read to you out of the 
newspaper proves that a ship with sixty thousand pounds 
in gold aboard of her was cast away and never heard of 
more; and, unless the dead man told a useless lie, the 
money is safe for you to handle. What I want to say to 
you is this: my share of the treasure we’ve all turned 
mutineers to get hold of is the girl; I agreed to touch no 
part of the money if you left her to me. Tliat arrange- 
ment I’ll stick to, as you’ve stuck to yours, like men of 
honor, by never interfering with her. You mean to wreck 
the brig, I take it, when you’ve got the money, so as to 
come off with it without raising suspicions. That’s a busi- 


242 


LITTLE LOO. 


ness r shall have to do for you, and it will require thought 
and judgment to do it properly. Your promise to me 
now is, then, to render me all help to save the girl. 
When the brig is wrecked, I suppose I may count on your 
not leaving me and the girl in the lurch, turnings upon us 
as people likely to tell tales, and therefore safest at the 
bottom of the sea?’’ 

Lord bless ye! is that wot you’re afeared of? Why, 
you’re as safe with us as if every one on us wur your own 
- mother!” shouted Beauty, thumping me on the back with 
a show of heartiness that set the rest of them echoing his 
affectionate outcry. 

It was impossible that such speeches as this could fail 
of the effect I designed they should produce. Without a 
shadow of confidence in the honesty of their intentions 
toward me and Miss Franklin, I looked round upon them 
with a congratulatory, cheerful countenance, and then, 
taking up one of the sketches of the island, I handed it to 
Beaut3^ 

^'You will take a boat’s compass with you,” said I, 

and see how the point of land which you first approach 
bears. We shall make the land from the Eastward. Sail 
or row the long-boat round to the north end, and see if 
the coast corresponds with the drawing. If it does, then, 
mates, the island is Deacon’s. When, you’ve got your boat 
\^snug, jump ashore and see if there are any people about. 
^Then take'’ the boat up this creek here,” pointing to the 
sketch, ^^and log the soundings, and let us know is there’s 
room there to moor the brig. That’ll be all I shall want 
to know — the rest you can leave to me. Only, when once 
you’ve started, boys, make haste, and don’t keep us hove- 
to all night waiting for you.” 

The men came around Beauty to have a look at the 
sketoii. 

There’s the mark as sinnifies where the gold lies!” 
shouts Billy. 

I reckon I’ll have some nuts off that cocoa tree!” cries 
Welchy. I’ve heerd say the milk’ll ferment into first- 
class liquor, 'if ye knows how long to expose of it,” 

How much gold’ll my pockets hold?” exclaims a third. 

. Lord, if the London gals only knew the cargo some of 
us’ll be cornin’ ashore with, I lay there’d be a smilin’ face; 
or two at the dockyard gates, bullied.” 


LITTLE LOO. 


243 


I left them laughing and jabbering, and went up into 
the foretop-mast cross-trees. It was now half-past eleven. 
The wind was just fr«sh enough to depress the brig’s, side 
to the level of the chain-plate bolts. The water stretched 
perfectly blue and smooth beneath me, and over it the 
vessel was running softly and steadily, marking her speed 
by the great length of her wake. 

The horizon was not so brilliantly clear as it had been 
on the preceding day. Sweeping it carefully, I thought a 
shadow lay directly over the flying jib-boom end. I gazed 
attentively, conceiving it might have been a cloud: but it 
neither rose nor fell, nor departed from the fixed point 
indicated by the steady steering of the brig. 

To satisfy myself, I shinned up the topgallant rigging, 
on to the royal yard, and stood upon it, with my arm 
around the mast. 

From this increased altitude one look was enough. . T 
put my hand to my mouth, to fling my voice backward, 
and shouted, Land ho!” 

1^0 sooner did my voice reach the deck, than I perceived " 
a commotion among the men; one half of them sprang 
into the fore, and the other half- into the main rigging, 
and a race took place among them for the first sight of 
the land. 

With my heart beating and my mind deeply agitated by 
the excitement of seeing this island, I descended to cho 
deck by the lee rigging, leaving the weather side to the 
men, who shouted and hurrahed as one by one they caught 
sight of the blue shadow right ahead. 

Is it truly land?” cried Billy, who stood at the wheol.^.v 

Truly indeed,” I replied. 

f ^ Hooray!” he roared, throwing up his cap. 

I went over to Banyard, who hung across the bulwark, 
with his eyes on the sea ahead. 

‘^Wesha’nT see it from the deck for another hour,” 
said I. 

What land is it?” he asked in a low whisper. * 

^^Teapy.” 

Are ye sure?” 

Perfectly sure; there is no other island hereabouts.” ^ 

And they’re lookin’ at it, thinkin’ the gold’s there!” 
he exclaimed, glancing aloft, while a smile went twisting 
over his mulish face like a catspaw upon water. 


LITTLE LOO. 


244 , 

I went below to get my sextant, and met Miss Franklin. 

Why were the men crying out and running about just 
now, Mr. Chadburn?’^ 

There is land in sight.” 

^^Land!” she cried, with her eyes firing up into their 
old beauty of gladness. 

I laid my hand on her arm and whispered, ^^It is the 
island marked Easter Island, or Teapy, on the chart. The 
men have no idea that we are near it. They believe that 
we are in the neighborhood of the island invented by 
Deacon, and that this is it. That island is going to free 
you from this long trial, and restore you, please God, to 
yoiar home in England. There is one part you will have 
to perform — not a difficult one.” 

I stopped, looking atiier with a smile. 

Do not ask me to be brave,” said she, with her sweet 
lip quivering, and caressing my hand. 

You will have to keep hidden in your cabin. Can you 
do that?” 

Oh, Mr. Ohadburn, you make me feel a weak,t silly, 
little woman.” 

At all events,” said I, laughing at her cast-down face 
— for she thought I ridiculed her cowardice, when God 
knows I loved and admired her all the more for it, so 
perverse is the heart in these matters — you may come on 
deck now. Stop till I get my sextant.” 

I brought a chair with me for her, and then proceeded 
to shoot the sun.” My calculations, as I had expected, 
confirmed my belief: the island ahead was Teapy. 

I called to Beauty, who came to me. 

Is the long-boat ready?” 

All ready.” 

Any fresh water in her?” 

^^ISTo’.” 

How can you call her ready, then? Put water and a 
bag of bread aboard. You may be detained, or have to 
beat back. Never put off, if it’s only for a ten minutes’ 
row, without ivater and bread. Tell tjie cook to see to it, 
will you? That island is low, and we shall fetch it sooner 
than you think.” 

He went forward promptly, but, to make sure, I watched 
until I saw the water and bread stowed in the boat. I 
then hove the log and made the brig’s speed over eight 


LITTLE LOO. 245 

knots. With all plain sail set, every sail full, and the 
water like a mill-pond, there was nothing to stop her. 

The men went to dinner soon after twelve; when they 
came on deck they stood forward waiting for the island 
to heave in sight. At one o’clock its dim blue outline 
was visible half way up the main rigging. At two o’clock 
it was to be seen from the deck, clear ahead. 

The wind slightly freshened: our wake ran off to the 
horizon astern, to lines of froth, like locomotive rails, 
glistening white on the blue sea; the water swept by faster 
than a man could run, and you might hear the humming 
noise of the cutwater chipping and peeling the sea like a 
plane along a deal board. The men were silent, gazing 
forward intently, sometimes turning their heads to look 
back and up aloft; Old Banyard walked the deck like an 
automaton, his face immovable, his eyes looking straight 
in front of him. 

At three o’clock the island was a distinct piece of land, 
the shadows plain upon it: it looked no bigger than the 
hull of a ship. I told Miss Franklin to go below and 
turn the key upon herself. She looked at me eagerly, for 
my manner was brimful of suppressed agitation, but rose 
without a word and quitted the deck. 

Examining the island with the glass, I recognized the 
coral formation of the beach: there was verdure upon the 
higher slopes of it, and trees. But at that distance it 
was impossible to detect signs of human habitation, if any 
there were. 

The men came aft, and in a subdued manner asked to 
look through the glass. The telescope went from hand to 
hand. One of them said he saw something, that looked 
like the masthead of a vessel behind the point there to 
starboard. This set the others staring, and I helped out 
the notion by pretending to see the mastheads clearly. 

How close do you want me to carry the brig?” I asked 
them. I stick to my opinion that three miles is near 
enough. In this breeze the long-boat will sail the distance 
in a half-hour.” 

Let’s hear your reasons agin for keepin’ three mile 
off,” said Beauty. 

^^If there should be a man-of-war hidden behind there, 
she might send her cutter aboard of us if we came close. 
But if we keep a good distance. off, they’ll find their curi- 

\ 


f 


,246 LITTLE LOO. 

osity not worth the trouble of a long pull against a head 
wind. That^s one’reason.^’ 

Let Jack have his way/Mnterrupted Suds, with an 
oath. ^^He’s got the long head. Let him heave to 
where he thinks best.^^ 

We’ll fill, and run down and pick you up on your re- 
turn,” said 1. 

^^Yery well,” cried Beauty: ^^say when.” 

Stand by to clew up the royals,” I shouted: ^Mve’ll 
furl those sails. See your fiying-jib halyards clear.” 

The men went into the waist. In about ten- minutes’ 
time I gave the order. We were drawing quickly upon 
the island; those points which resembled the mast-heads 
of a ship had sunk behind the rugged line, leaving the 
men still in doubt as to whether there was a ship there or 
not. 

At four o’clock, by my watch, I sung out to the men 
to man the lee-braces; the maintack and sheet were hauled 
up, the yards swung, and the brig’s way stopped. The 
island lay broad on our lee bow looking a tiny fairy realm 
in its delicate verdure and white base and tender shadow- 
ings, upon the deep blue sea and under the glorious sky, 
across which the small fleecy clouds were sailing. 

Kow then, my lads,” said I, let’s get the long-boat 
over. Bear a hand, and you’ll be back by four bells, and 
it’s not dark till eight.” 

The tackles aloft being ready, nothing remained biit to 
hook on to the slings. All hands tailed on, the boat 
rose out of the chocks, and was presently floating along- 
side. 

See tliat everything is right . in her,” I called to 
Beauty, Mio, with Billy, had jumped in, and was step- 
ping the mast. Got your compass?” 

^^Ay, ay!” 

^^Lead and line?” 

Eight.” 

In with you, boys,” I exclaimed, turning to the rest. 

, They lowered themselves into the boat, one after the 
other. The boy Hardy and the cook came to the gang- 
way to watch them. Savings stood at the wheel; Banyard 
stumped the deck to and fro, appearing to notice nothing. 

If it should fall dark before you get back, we’ll burn 
a flare,” I cried. Be as brisk as you can. If it comes 


LITTLE LOO. 


247 


on to blow, web'e too short-handed,* with you away, to 
handle the brig. Now, then, up with your sail — cast that 
line adrift there.’’ 

The boat’s head was shoved off, the sail run up, and the 
boat glided away. 

Hurrah for the gold mine!” little Welchy shouted, 
tossing his cap in the air. . - 

This’ll do for the savidges if there is any,” yelled 
Billy, flourishing his sheath-knife. 

Sam and Beauty sat together in the stern-sheets, smok- 
ing, and steering the boat. She ran pretty nimbly, and 
raised a little wave on either quarter, and was soon oii4 of 
reach of hail. I watched her until the men’s faces were 
no longer distinct: I then went up to Banyard, and whis- 
pered: 

Tell the cook I want him in the cabin, and as he 
comes below^ be at his heels.” 

Him to be fust?” 

I dropped my head, and went down the companion. 
Standing at the table I waited until the cook’s naked feet 
showed themselves on the companion steps; then laying 
hold of his legs, I pulled him down. He iell on his nose, 
and hit the deck a tJmmper, so that if he Jhad not been 
too astounded to cry out, he would have had no breath 
to sound his voice with. Putting the cold barrel of the 
revolver to his temple, I swore in the most terrible voice 
and look I could command, that if he stirred or uttered 
the least sound I would kill him;, and whilst he lay mo- 
tionless with terror, his eyes half out of his head, and his 
hair erect, Banyard, in his dogged way, securedhis hands 
and feet. / . ^ 

Now/’ said I to Banyard, ^^for Savings. Come you 
alongside of me, after I have been talking to him a few 
moments.” 

I ran up on deck, and after glancing at the boat, whose 
sail was now a mere square patch of white on the sea, I 
weni^ up to Savings. He was a medium-sized man, with a 
rather foolish expression of face, and pale eyes, and a red 
• beaW. 

^•,How is it that you .are not in the boat?” I asked, 

Wouldn’t they trust you?” 

/<« Trust me? I dunno. But I’ll have my share of the 
/; swag though— Beauty can’t keep-me off that.” 


There’s no swa^, as yon call it. Deacon’s tale is a 
lie. That island there is Teapy — and my object in de- 
ceiving the men is to get them out of the brig, in order to 
recover her and carry her home. Down with you for a 
murdering mutineer!” 

Banyard was emerging through the companion as I 
thundered out these words. Before Savings had time to 
gather my meaning, mj whole weight was upon him, and 
he was under me. He yelled out and fought like a 
madman, but whilst I knelt upon his chest Banyard lashed 
his legs; his arms were then pinioned, and dragging him 
to the sky-light, we propped him with his back against it. 

The apprentice. Hardy, a strapping lad of some seven- 
teen years old, stood looking on from the gangway. 
When I had done with Savings, the young fellow ran uf 
to me: 

Mr. Chadburn, I see your meaning, sir. I’ll help you,' 
he called out. I had nd hand in the mutiny, and wil. 
work like a man to get away from it all, sir.” 

Eight you are, my boy,” said I. ^^Eun to the wheel 
and put it hard-a-starboard. Banyard,” I shouted, let’s 
get the yards round.” 

He came running fo^-ward while Hardy revolved the 
wheel. The mainyards K.»vung easily, and the sails filled; 
the moment way was on the brig she began to pay ofi; in 
a few minutes the island was on the port quarter, the 
yards braced on the port tack, and the brig headed east.. 



OHAPTEE XLII. 


MY SHAKE. 

This, then, was the scheme I had formed for rescuing 
' Miss Franklin from the mutineers. It had progressed far 
more satisfactorily than I had dared to hope. Had , the 
wind failed, I should have had to invent an excuse for 
postponing the departure of thcHboat; and the delay of a 
day, by reason of the capr%ipus character of the men,\n’ 
a change of weather, m%ht have proved fatal to thc; 
undertaking. ) 


LITTLE LOO. 


249 


I was passing the skylight, intending To^look at the boat 
through the glass, when I heard the cook’s voice calling 
to me. I went below, and the moment he saw me he im- 
plored me to give him his liberty, swearing that he would 
serve me faithfully. 

I’m too young a man to go to prison, sir,”* he whined. 

I ain’t in a fit state o’ mind to perish slowly, sir. It’s 
no fault o’ mine that I’m a mutineer. The others, they 
set me on; they was one too many for me, sir, and I 
should have fallen a wictim to their fury if I’d refused to 
cut in along with them, sir.” 

If you will act honestly by me,” I answered, and 
help to bring the brig to port, I’ll release you. You have 
now a chance of becoming a respectable man again by as- 
sisting me and Banyard in working the vessel. If you do 
your work faitiifully, I will represent your character to 
the authorities ashore in a favorable light, and by this 
means you will escape the heavyr punishment you have in- 
curred by your lawless behavior.” 

He tlianked me in the most humble tones for my good- 
ness, swore that he was heartily glad that the men were 
out of the brig, and that I had regained her, and implored 
me to cast his lashings adrift and give him a fair trial, 
and if he deceived me, might be, etc., etc. 

However, we could do withoiH him for the present, and 
it wmuld do him no harm to be kept for a little while in a 
state of suspense; so I told him he must lay there for a 
bit until I had discussed him with Banyard, and made up 
my mind as to what should be done wit]jt.J;/L 

I had no time yet to see Miss Franklin*, ^'^irang on 
deck again, and found the brig sailing well,- ar^ Hardy 
steering her excellently. Yonder was the lopg-boat far 
astern, so mere a speck that I could not believe we h^ael 
put all that distance between us already; examining her 
through the glass, I found that they had lowered the sail. 
This meant they had discovered we were running aw; •' 
from them, and were waiting to see what the action sign. ‘ 
fied. 

They would hardly yet suspect that they were betrayed, 
and under the imprp«o’ maybe, that a man-of-war had 
hove in si^' ' * ^roni the deck, they w'ould be 

Mtting '' 


’^re nothing to me now. 


250 


LITTLE LOO. 


Every moment we were fining down the little island into 
a more delicate aiid * ethereal vision upon the boundless 
blue, and in half-an-^iour’s time the long-boat would be 
out of reach of the telescope itself, though leveled at her 
from the mast-head. 

These men were not cruelly sent adrift; land was near 
them, they had water and bread, and a boat big enough 
to fetch the Paumota cluster, if Teapy proved desolate, 
with little risk. 

I dismissed them from my thoughts, and turned my 
attention to our own position. 

Banyard, leaning against the bulwarks, smoked his pipe 
with a stolidity that excited my wonder and envy. Sav- 
ings watched me with a steady gaze, and thinking he 
wished to address me, I approached him; but he at once 
lowered his eyes, while a dogged look came into his face. 

You were one of the men,’^ said I, ^^who joined in 
the mutiny with a good will. You’re guilty of the cap- 
tain’s death, and must therefore nfake up your mind to be 
hanged for murder.” 

Do it at once, and be !” he answered in a fierce 

growl. Only it ’ud ha’ been kinder had ye let me go 
away with the others. Two to one’s one too many, and 
I’se done ye no wrong that you should take my life.” 

What do you mean?” I shouted. Do you suppose 
I mean to kill you? All that I want from you is your 
promise to help me to work the brig into port. If you’ll 
do that, we’ll shake hands, and never a word shall be said 
against you asl^^e about you being in the mutiny. That 
will be if you stick to yours.” 

Thig^'Was^iometliing so entirely different from what he 
had expected, that for some moments he could only stare 
at me with astonishment. When he found his voice, he 
cried out: 

^•'If that’s what you want, take the turns off my legs 
and arms, and see if I’ll work or not!” 

* Perceiving now that his mutinous ferocious manner had 
been owing to his belief that Banyard and I thirsted for 
his blood, I at once cut his hands and feet adrift; consid- 
ering Ithat my giving him W- ’ -nromptly would pro- 
duce a good effect upon hv^ 

He jumped up, stretch hands'^ 

and cried out: / 


LITTLE LOO. 


251 


Tell us what to be at now, sir!” . 

You’ll do!” exclaimed Bahyavd, stepping forward and 
dealing him a friendly blow on the back. Any color’s 
better nor the black flag to sail under, mate.” 

That’s right, Pendulum,” said I; talk in that way, 
and let Savings agree with you, and there’ll not be an 
honester brig afloat than the Little Loo,^’ 

I then stepped below, and walked up to cook, who lay 
on his back, secure as a mummy in the middle of a pyra- 
mid. He immediately began to renew his entreaties to 
me to liberate him, protesting that his arms and legs were 
bloodless, and that if the cramp took his stomach I 
should have to bury him. 

So, to put the poor wretch out of suspense, I cut the 
lashing ofl his legs and wrists, and bluntly informing him 
that his future was in his own hands, and that it would 
depend entirely upon his own conduct whether he was 
hanged (cheerful encouragement to his morals) for the 
murder of Captain Franklin and Mr. Sloe, or let off scot 
free to start honestly in life again, I bade him go on deck, 
report himself to Banyard, and tell him and Savings he 
meant to give us all the help in his power. 

Up he tumbled, as briskly as the cramp would let him, 
and I heard him (through the open skylight) run up to 
Banyard and exclaim that the skipper (meaning me) . 
had no occasion to ktiock him down and make him fast; 
he was never over-friendly disposed toward the mutiny, 
and was heartily grateful to be brought out of the mess so 
easily.” 

Savings made some reply which I n^ catch, but 
the tone ^ of both men satisfied me tMt tli|y might be 
depended* upon for the present. 

In a jubilant frame of mind which was not to be im- 
paired by the physical weariness under which I labored, I 
approached Miss Franklin’s cabin. She knew my knock,, 
and instantly opened the door and stood looking at me 
with bright eager eyes. 

■ ' The sight of her stirred myrheart to the center with the 
great love I bore her; the heavy anxiety that had been 
caused me by my thouglj^ labor for her safety, the ^ 
feeling that she was saU i^-ig her own, that she had 
passed through a frig§ ght. ... A of perils unscathed, un- 
Yi^Tonted, as free frof^ the cabin she tenanted 


252 


LITTLE LOO. 


were her own dear Kentish home — all these thoughts arnd 
emotions crowding* upon me prevented me from speaking 
to her for a little. P put out my hand and she took it, 
hut mistaking my silence, she asked me in a frightoned 
whisper if my scheme had failed. 

/^No/^ I exclaimed, ^^you are safe — the brig is going 
home.’^ 

And so she was, in one sense, though the course would 
not be a direct one. Ko sooner had I said this than she 
uttered a little cry of joy. The rapture of the news 
covered her face with a deep flush. She came close to 
me and leaned her head against my breast, exclaiming, in 
her 'wonderf Lilly sweet voice: 

Going home at last! going home at last!’’ 

You have had confidence in me, and I have not de- 
ceived you,” I answered, looking down upon her beauti- 
ful hair and longing to stroke it; and then feeling my 
knees trembling under me, I sank down upon the locker 
close against the door, pressing my hand to my forehead 
to keep back the sudden feeling of faintness that came 
over me. 

You have overtax vonr strength,” I heard her say.. 
She left my side, and 'iwa tew moments was holding a 
wineglass of brandy to my lips. The draught was a com- 
forting one, and the thing I stood in need of. I thanked 
her, and kissed the hand she extended, to receive the glass. 

She fetched her pillow and placed it on the locker, and 
begged me to lie down. 

‘‘ I ha,^ some toilet- vinegar,” she said, and will bathe- 
your headr I will soon make you well. You have 
watched o\^’ me for a long, long time— it is my turn now.” 

All h^ 'Curiosity to hear what had happened was re- 
pressed or gone; she thought I was ill, and for the first 
time I had real assurance that my love for her was returned, 
by the wistful eagerness, the mournful, beautiful, anxious 
look with which she regarded me. 

You wh^ read this, who are thinking of the long-boat 
with its freight o^ mutiueei»s astern, of the questionable 
i^eformation of the two men on deck, of the diflBculties 
that still beset me in my undertaking to navigate this 
brig oTthree hundred tons, with only three men and a 
boy to do the work — you will think this no very favorable 
moment for making love in. But I was under the spell 


LITTLE LOO. 


263 


of an impulse that takes no account of opportunity. She 
stood near me, looking at me with her wistful eyes, and 
with no thought to inspire the actf&n and the words, I 
took her hand and held it in both mine. 

^‘^You were to be my share of the treasure, little Loo,’^ 

I whispered to her, ^Mvhen we reached the island, and 
divided the gold. We have reached the island, but there 
is no gold, and the men are disappointed. Is my share in 
the undertaking to be a failure? do I deserve my treasure? 
is it to be mine, by her own consent, as it has long been 
mine by consent of my own heart? 

I was your treasure before the men gave me to youT’ 
she answered. 

And v/hat then happened? I will tell it tcT you in a 
single sentence; she lay folded in my arms, and my lips 
were on her cheek! And so, God bless us. I had won 
her, and she was happy to be won. 

Well, you always kn. this would happen, from the 
moment my little Loo ho\ ^ sight in the coffee-room at 
Bayport. But I didn’t. A n who knows the end of 
a yarn is apt to work at it crab-walk : the finish ^ 

comes leaking right away throi rom the last ^ 
into the first, and his book, spi. of his fancying 
is cunningly patting you pff the scent, becomes 1 
of those little fish that are caught, I don’t know 
in whose transparent bodies you may see the bloo 
lating and the heart beating. 

I never could have sworn that she loved me unt 
a hurry it came out: and then she was in my ar’^- ^ 

was kissing her. Gratitude vvorking upjon tru^ / as 
her impulse: and true love fermenting under '/ of 

her eyes and the sweetness of her presence was%i^ im- 
pulse. ^ . 

Eeversing the arithmetical rule, we added one to^one, 
and made the product one. 

‘^Now for business, my darling,” said I, holding 
her hand, and I brought her out of the cabin on to the 
deck. - - 


... ^ ^ 
> V 

■<v . ■ ■ : 


254 


LITTLE LOO. 


'• i 


CHAPTER XLIIL 

THE LAST. 

The island was a bare, faint shadow on the* horizon 
astern: the sun was shining low in the sky over it: in the 
east, where our bowsprit was pointing, the heavens were 
a deep violet, and all around us was the boundless ocean 
of the Pacific. We were sailing fast under the warm, 
steady breeze, though the mainsail was still hauled up, 
and both the royals and flying-jib in. On a bowline the 
Little Loo would walk away from a steamer: what chance, 
then, would the short, broad- bowed long-boat have, were 
her occupants to take it into their heads to chase us? 

Banyard, the cook, and Savings conversed together 
near the mainmast; they were all three of them smoking 
joipes, and looked peaceable enough. I called them up to 
me. 

" i^ow. Savings, what do you think of this job.^ 
you glad you are out of the mutiny?” 
not say no to that, mast;/Br,” he replied, pulling his 
t of his mouth, and looking first at me and then 
le Loo, but here’s Banyard and me can’t agree 
eacon’syarn. Banyard, he says that there ain’t 
nd, and my argeyment is — wot’s that there?” 
to the island astern. 

- e^y to see from the simple observation that 
the . ^ was chafing under the notion that we were 
leavih^the gold, of which he was to have had a share, 
and resigning it all to the kicky rascals in the long-boat. 
It w»s quite likely that the cook took this view of the 
matter* too; and it therefore behooved me to take some 
trouble to clear the nonsense out of their minds. 

I accord kigly sent Banyard for the South Sea chart, 
whereon the brig’s course was pricked. Desiring them to 
take notice of the track there delineated in pencil, I 
pointed out that there were ninety-nine chances in the 
hundred that, had Deacon’s islmid really had existencOv it 
would be mai'ked on the charts but for argument’s sake, 
I was willing to assume that the countless ships that had 


LITTLE LOO. 


navigated these latitudes had overlooked it. I'^ow, ac- 
cording to Deacon, his island should be somewhere here, 
and I pointed to the place on the chart; but the brig had 
sailed right over the spot, and it was all sea. I had stood 
on the fore .royal yard and swept the horizon all round, 
and no land had hove in sight. One could not dispute the 
evidence of one’s own senses and the hydrographers, 
and in the total absence of all land hereabouts, we were 
bound to believe that Deacon’s story was a- lie. 

I need not weary you by ^^peating all the arguments I 
made use of. I laid particular emphasis on Deacon’s mad- 
ness, and proved by parallel instances (one of which was 
true and the rest invented) that he was a monomaniac 
who, having got the notion of the island and the gold 
into his head, believed in it heartily, dreamed or imagined 
a yarn to account for his knowledge of the money, which 
was consistent euough to appear perfectly possible, and by 
fully believing in his own crazy imagination, easily ob- 
tained the belief of others. 

The cook appeared fully satisfied with my arguments, 
and said tliat for his j)art he had never known whether 
to think Deacon’s yarn true or false: 

^^It was all accordin’; ven the men talked about the 
fine doin’s they’d have ashore ven they’d got the gald, then 
his feelin’s were excited and he believed in the yarn; and 
ven he was alone in his bunk, then he didn’t. He never 
liked Deacon much himself. There was summat 'wrong 
in his right eye, to his way o’ thinkin’. It didn’t look 
like a man’s eye — it wur more like a dog’s. Hq rw^s glad 
enough to get quit o’ the whole job, and” (iboi^ng at 
little Loo) ^‘all he could say was, he hoped we’d iill have 
a prosperous woyage.” 

Savings merely said: 

I don’t doubt you’re right, master. If there ain’t no 
island, there can’t be no gold.” 

But he did not appear quite satisfied, though his opinion 
was of no consequence. How that the cook had given in 
his adhesion we were four to one; besides, what good 
would it have done him to turn villain and murder us, if 
we gave him the chance? He would be a lonely wretch 
on tlie brig, and that was all. 

I now explained to tlie men tliat it was my intention to 


254 


LITTLE LOO. 


■cc >/l g to Valparaiso; that was the nearest port to 
where v/ ere. If Savings liked, he could leave the vessel 
there, ■ xiot a word should be said to him. This was 
just a premise to make him good tempered; he grinned, 
and dashed his head about, crying: 

‘'"ITl do your work! : Ftn as good as two men ivhen. I 
choose .f ’ to be. YouTl see me use my legs, master.’’ 

There was no more to be said, so I told the cook to go 
forward and light the galley fire and get tea ready, and 
desired Savings to come aft a#d relieve Hardy at four bells. 

sha’n’t put all the work upon you, mates,” said I. 
•^^I’ll do my share along with the* rest There are five of 
us> and we’ll each stand our two hours ajiiece at the wheel, 
so you’ll have sleep enough if the weather holds, and we’re 
in the right part of the world for fine weather.” 

The moment the men were gone, my little Loo jumped 
up and put her hand in my arm, and made me walk with 
her about the deck. 

For the first time for many a long day something like 
real happiness sparkled in her eyes. She glanced up at 
me with strange, sweet looks of triumph, and if she were 
not proud of her sailor-sweetheart, she must have been an 
arrant little actress, for she fully made me believe that she 
was proud. 

After all, the perils we had lived through had made us 
very dear to each other. Had we not been lovers, we were 
bound to be affectionate friends. We had equal claims on 
each other: she had saved my life, and I had rescued her 
from God knows what future. 

She drew me about the deck with many a fond pressure 
of her hand, making me look at tl.e.water sliding crisply 
by, then at the compass (where Hi«rdy would turn his 
head aside to smother a grin), and prattling the softest 
nonsense all the while. 

Indeed — and this is the long and short of it — she was a 
born romp. A dreadful coward in danger, saucy and bold 
as brass when there was nothing to be afraid of, v/ith a 
temperament like mercury in the thermometer — very low 
when the wind blew cold, very high when the sun shone 
bright; impressionable to the misery or joy of the moment, 
witli a natural heart of light and song in her which was to 
be eclipsed and silenced only for a time, which would 


LITTLE LOO, 2o7 

shine out and make melody again the .moment the clouds 
had rolled away. 

And was she a sweetheart to be trusted, do you ask? 

Yes, mate. 

That evening a glorious sunset made the western sky 
magnificent with color. The rose-colored clouds stood 
upon the horizon like the peaks of some magically ^wrought 
continent; through them the sun darted converging beams 
of light, which, striking the sea, shivered into separate 
floods of gold. 

The clouds went down with the sun, and left the sky a 
pure and spotless dome of blue, which, as tlie darkness 
gathered, was enriched with stars until it was ablaze with 
these points of brilliance from the furthest reaches of it. 

Old Banyard was at the wheel, his face as immovable as 
the brig’s figure-head, steering the vessel with dogged at- 
tention to his work, now glancing at the compass, now up 
aloft, giving the spokes a twirl sometimes, and sometimes 
discharging tobacco- juice. 

Little Loo and I were upon the skylight, our hands 
locked; and now and then she would lay her head upon 
my shoulder, and demonstrate her love and happiness by 
such caresses; and Banyard took no more notice of us 
than had we been deck-fixtures, like the pumps or the 
knight-heads. 

At the galley-door the cook, his shirt-sleeves rolled 
above his elbows. Savings near him with his arms folded. 
Hardy leaning against the bulwark. The low murmur 
of their voices scarcely reached us. 

The soft wind kept t^he sails full and silent, and all was 
still aloft; the sea w'^s quite smooth, and only a tender 
tinkling of wafer mu icated the furrow which our coppered 
stem was nimbL-j cutting into the darkling, star-laden sur-r 
face of sea. 

It was like a dream to glance along the C^ck and see 
the three figures there, and note the st'illneS, and tlien 
look back and think of the scenes that hai been enacted 
upon it. 

With my eyes fixed on the little white hand that lay 
like a flake of snow on my palm, I fell into a reverie, from 
which little Loo aroused me by putting her lips to my ear 
and asking what my thoughts were. 


LITTLE LOOe 


I was thinking of Bayport/’ said I; of a little hotel 
there with a balcony in it; of a sweet little woman I once 
beheld in that balcony.” 

You mean me?” 

And nobody else. What a poor creature I was then. 
There was not a soul in the whole wide world who cared 
two straws for me, whether I came or went, whether I 
was shipwrecked, drowned, or murdered, I looked more 
earnestly at that little woman than she imagined. I 
thought her face a sweet one, and her eyes beautiful, and 
I loved the expression of goodness in her face; so much 
so, little Loo, that had I had a landsman’s cheek, I would 
have forced myself upon her merely to hear her voice, 
and get warmth into my bothered mind out of the sym- 
pathy I was sure it was musical with. Little I guessed 
that that sweet woman and I would be fellow-travelers, 
sharers of a great danger, that it should be my privilege 
to watch over and protect her, and on one beautiful 
night in the far-off Pacific Ocean, to find myself sitting 
with her on the deck of a little vessel, happier in my 
heart than ever I have known myself to be, because her 
hand is in mine and her love is my own. Those are my 
thoughts, little Loo.” 

And very pretty thoughts. Tell me more.” 

It is your turn to tell me something.” 
will ask you a question: Shall you get tired of me 
before we reach England?” 

JSTow that shows how little you understand the char- 
acter of sailors.” 

Indeed,” cried she coquettishly. I know that sail- 
ors are the most fickle creatures under the sun. Doesn’t 
one of the songs they are so fond of singing say that 
Jack has a wife at every port ? and, not only are they 
fickle, but they are mutineers and murderers. Go away! 
I hate you!” 

Out flew her hands, and^she gave me a saucy push: the 
next instant she was nestling against me, piping melodious 
laughter against my coat. 

Then over her came one of the sudden changes — the 
April cloud of the English sky — that always took me un- 
awares, like the veering of a breeze. She hid her face in 
her haudS; and shook her head and sobbed. 


LITTLE LOO. "259 

^^Here is Captain Lucius again,” thought I; and I was 
quite right. 

My poor, poor brother!” 

0 Lord!” 

Well, it was very hard. If he was drowned, why, then, 
he was at peace — he had met a sailor’s death. He was 
taken from her, but one fonder, and truer, and dearer, 
and in every respect sweeter than a brother, had taken his 
place. And if the men had not sent him away in the 
boat, would little Loo be sitting here, hand in liand with 
me, betrothed, deeply affectionate, two tender lovers 
free as birds to bill and coo? 

Here was the right nail struck. Her eyes peeped mourn- 
fully at me over her finger-tops, and she moaned: 

^‘Ho, he would not have allowed me to love you.” 

Which melancholy reflection was a source of comfort 
after all, and so she was presently chattering, and laugh- 
ing softly again. 

Shall I stop here? When I look at those two lovers 
yonder on the skylight, at the silent sails stretching their 
dim spaces and canvas into the gloom, at the stolid old 
figure steering^ and the pale, still, vacant decks, I hardly 
think I could choose a fitter time for dropping the cur- 
tain, and leaving the Little Loo to sail calmly into the 
mist and thickness that lie outside knowledge. Is the 
liero of a story bound to talk of his marriage, and what 
kind of house he occupies, and how much a year he 
has to live upon, and the character he got with his last 
cook? 

These surely are matters which lie on the other side of 
love-making, and ought to find no place in the yarn which 
keeps to the courtship part, to the whispers, and kisses, 
and the starlight. I was a poor man when I shipped on 
board the Little Loo, but I found my fortune in her, 
and came off, maybe, a richer man than ever Deacon in his 
madness contemplated making me in his first crazy over- 
tures. 

But I’ll not leave you on the high seas. 

The Pacific, famous for its calm seas and lovely climate, 
did not fail us. Fortune had lost her spite, and was now 
ouj friend. During the whole of the three weeks we were 
^-jccupied in making the run to Valparaiso we never let go 


260 


LITTLE LOO. 


a halyard nor furled a sail. A touch at long intervals at 
the braces was all our work — that and steering. Well it 
was that this was so; the cook was of no earthly use aloft 
— it turned him sick, he said, to look down, and he could 
do nothing but hold on — and a squall or a gale would have 
found the brig with only four available hands to shorten 
sail. 

One ship only did we signal during this run — an Ameid- 
can whaler, I took her to be by the chubby boats hanging 
to her full sides, like infants at a mother’s breast; her 
round matronly bows, short topgallant masts, and rusty 
rigging. She was hardly like to put any hands on board 
of us, even if we had signaled our wants; but we hoped 
to be able to manage without her help and passed her with 
the ensign at our peak, blowing over our quarter with as 
much haughty independence as if our forecastle had been 
full of men. 

We arrived at Valparaiso early one Saturday morning, 
three weeks and one day after we had turned our back 
upon Teapy. They were firing guns from the fort as we 
swam lazily in, and the thunder and smoke seemed like a 
salute in honor of our adventures and final triumph. 

Going ashore, 1 inquired for the residence of the English 
Consul, and found him a very polite, civil gentleman. He 
returned with me to the brig, where I introduced him to 
Miss Eranklin, whom he insisted should make his house 
her home whilst she decided upon her plans for reaching 
England. 

What were those plans to be? 

He suggested that she should proceed by steamer to 
Rio, and thence home. 

And the brig? 

Why, there was nothing to prevent her from shipping a 
crew and proceeding to Sydney, to which port her cargo 
was consigned, in charge of a certificated captain. 

I must go with her,” said I. 

To be sure,” answered the Consul. 

And you mean that I should go home alone?” cried 
little Loo. 

You will be perfectly safe, madam,” said the Consul. 

But I am going to marry Mr. Chadburn,” exclaimed 
my brave little Loo, and wherever he goes, 1 will go.” 


LITTLE LOO. ^61 

Your resolution is honorable to you both,” replied 
the Consul, with a polite bow. 

you will permit a perfect stranger to offer a sugges- 
tion — let me propose that you get married here before you 
sail, and you may command me for any capacity you 
may think me qualified to officiate in on such an occa- 
sion,” 

The notion was a grand one. That day week little Loo 
became Mrs. Chadburn. 


THE END. 


fhe Seaside Library. 


OR]>lNAl£ir E»IXION. 


GEORGE MUNRO, Publisher, 

P* Oo Box 3751. 17 to SJ7 Vandewater Street, New York, 


The following works contained in The Seaside Library, Ordinary Edition, 
fire for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address, postage free, oKi 
receipt of 12 cents for single numbers, and 25 cents for double numbers, by the 


MRS. ALEXANDER’S WORKS. price. 

30 Her Dearest Foe 20 

36 The Wooing O’t 20 

46 The Heritage of Langdale 20 

870 Ralph Wilton’s WeiiKi 10 

400 Which Shall it Be? 20 

532 Maid, Wife, or Widow?. 10 

1231 The Freres 20 

1259 Valerie’s Fate 10 

1391 Look Before You Leap 20 

1502 The Australian Aunt 10 

> 1595 The Admiral’s Ward 20 

WILLIAM BLACK’S WORKS. 

^18 A Princess of Thule 20 

^28 A Daughter of Heth 10 

47 In Silk Attire 10 

.. 48 The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton 10 

'"^51 Kilmeny. 10 

58 The Monarch of Mincing Lane 10 

‘■'*‘^79 Madcap Violet (small type) 10 

604 Madcap Violet (large type) 20 

242 The Three Feathers 10 

390 The Marriage of Moira Fergus, and The Maid of Killeena. 10 

^417 Macleod of Dare 20 

451 Lady Silverdale’s Sweetheart. 10 

y 668 Green Pastures and Piccadilly 10 

"S“ 816 White Wings: A Yachting Romance 10 

826 Oliver Goldsmith 10 

950 Sunrise: A Story of These Times 20 

1025 The Pupil of Aurelius 10 

\ 1032 That Beautiful Wretch 10 

1161 The Four MacNicols 10 

1264 Mr. Pisistratus Brown, M.P., in the Highlands 10 

1429 An Adventure in Thule. A Story for Young People 10 

1556 Shandon Bells 20 

*^1683 Yolande.... 20 


3 : 


THE SEASIDE TIB^ATtY.— Ordinary Edition, 


CHARLES LETER’S WORKS.-Continued. 


609 Barrington 20 

633 Sir Jasper Carew, Knight 20 

657 The Martins of Cro’ Martin. Part 1 20 

657 The MartCns of Cro’ Martin. Part II 20 

823 Tony Butler 20 

872 Luttrell of Arran, Part I 20 

872 Luttrell of Arran. Part II 20 

951 Paul Gosslett’s Confessions 10 

965 One of Them. First half 20 

965 One of Them. Second half 20 

989 Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Parti 20 

989 Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Part II 20 

1235 The Bramleighs of Bishop’s Polly 20 

1309 The Dodd Family Abroad. First half 20 

1309 The Dodd Family Abroad. Second half 20 

1342 Horace Templeton 20 

1394 Roland Cashel. First half > 20 

1394 Roland Cashel. Second half 20 

1496 The Daltons; or. Three Roads in Life. First half 20 

1496 The Daltons; or, Three Roads in Life. Second half 20 

. 57 '- • . ” J 

SAMUEL LOVER’S WORKS. 

3b 8 Handy Andy 20 

^^*^^6 Rory O’More 20 

123 Irish Legends 10 

158 He Would be a Gentleman 20 

293 Tom Crosbie.^ 10 

^ SIR BULWER LYTTON’S WORKS. 

The Last Days of Pompeii 20 

587 Zanoni 20 

689 Pilgrims of the Rhine 10 

714 Leila; or, The Siege of Grenada 10 

781 Rienzi, The Last of the Tribunes 20 

955 Eugene Aram 20 

979 Ernest Maltravers 20 

1001 Alice; or, The Mysteries 20 

1064 The Caxtons 20 

1089 My Novel. First half 20 

1089 My Novel Second half 20 

1205 Kenelm Chillingly: His Adventures and Opinions 20 

1316 Pelham; or, The Adventures of a GeMtleman 20 

1454 The I^ast of the Barons. First half 20 

1454 The Last of the Barons. Second half 20 

1529 A Strange Story 20 

1690 What Will He Do With It? First half. 20 

1690 Wiia- Will He Do With It? Second half 2C 


THE SEASIDE L7DBARY.—0rdma/i^y Edition. xi 


T. B. MACAULAY’S WOEKS. 

926 The Lays of Ancient Rome, and Other Poems 10 

976 History of England. Part 1 20 

976 History of England. Part II 20 

976 History of England.. Part III 20 

976 History of England. Part IV 20 

976 History of England. Part Y 20 

976 History of England. Part VI 20 ‘ 

976 History of England. Part VII 20 

976 History of England. Part VIII . 20 

976 History of England. Part IX 20 

976 History of England. Part X 20 


BEOBGE MACDONALD'S WORKS. 

455 Paul Faber, Surgeon *. .. 

491 Sir Gibbie 

595 The Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood 

606 The Seaboard Parish 

627 Thomas Wingfold, Curate 

643 The Vicar’s Daughter 

668 David Elginbrod 

677 St. George and St. Michael 

790 Alec Forbes of Howglen 

887 Malcolm 

922 Mary Marston 

938 Guild Court. A. London Story 

948 The Marquis of Lossie 

962 Robert Falconer 

1375 Castle Warlock: A Homely Romance 

1439 Adela Cathcart 

1466 The Gifts of the Child Christ, and Other Tales. . 

1488 The Princess and Curdle. A Girl’s Stoiy 

1498 Weighed and Wanting 

E. MARLITT’S WORKS. 

453 The Princess of the Moor 

>•522 The Countess Gisela 

636 In the Schillingscourt 

■> 866 The Second Wife 

878 In the Counselor’s House 

1055 The Bailiff’s Maid 

IF 1210 Old Mamselle’s Secret 


CAPTAIN MARRYAT’S WORKS. 


n 108 The Sea-King 

^JJ422 The Privateersman. . . . 
>^^t41 Masterman Re'ady.'. . . 
Rattlin, the Reefer. . . 
Mr. Midshipman Easy 
156 The King’s Own 


V 147 
^450 


20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

'20 

10 

10 

20 


20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 


10 

10 

10 

10 

10 

10 


XII THE SEASIDE LTBRAET.— Ordinary Edition. 


CAPTAIN MARRYAT’S WORKS. Continued. 

-^^59 The Phantom Ship 10 

163 Frank Mildmay 10 

* 170 Newton Forster 10 

"^ --3r73 Japhet in Search of a Father 20 

175 The Pacha of Many Tales 10 

176 Percival Keene 10 

•^^^85 The Little Savage 10 

192 The Three Cutters 10 

199 Settlers in Canada 10 

207 The Children of the New Forest 10 

' ^ ^^73 Snarley 3 mw, the Dog Fiend 10 

-^ *£82 Poor Jack 10 

340 Peter Simple 20 

898 The Mission; or, Scenes in Africa 20 

1070 The Poacher 20 

1116 Valerie 20 

FLORENCE MARRYAT’S WORKS. 

110 The Girls of Feversham 10 

119 Petronel 20 

197 “ No Intentions 20 

206 The Poison of Asps 10 

\ 219 My Own Child 10,; 

^ 305 Her Lord and Master 10 

323 A Lucky Disappointment 10 

426 Written in Fire 20 

V 533 Ange r. . 20 

635 A Harvest of Wild Oats 20 

703 The Root of All Evil 20 

742 A Star and a Heart 10 

784 Out of His Reckoning 10 

820 The Fair-Haired Alda 20 

897 Love’s Conflict 20 

1038 With Cupid’s Eyes 20 

1007 A Little Stepson 10 

1086 My Sister the Acti’ess 20 

1349 Phyllida. A Life Drama 20 

1654 Facing the Footlights 20 

MISS MULOCK'S WORKS. 

V 2 John Halifax, Gentleman 10 

456 John Halifax, Gentleman (large type).. . 20 

77 Mistress and Maid 10 

81 Christian’s Mistake. 10 

82 My Mother and I 10 

88 The Two Marriages 10 

91 The Woman’s Kingdom 20 

101 A Noble Life 10 

103 A Brave Lady 20 


THE SEASIDE LTBBAUY. — Ordinary .Edition. 


XIII 


MISS MULOCK’S WORKS —Continued. 

121 A Life for a Life 20 

130 Sermons Out of Church 10 

135 Agatha’s Husband 20 

142 The Head of the Family 2(1 

22?^ Hannah 10 

240 "The Laurel Bush 10 

291 Olive 20 

294 The Ogilvies 20 

314 Nothing New 10 

320 A Hero 10 

330 A Low Marriage. 10 

457 The Last of the Rutlivens, and The Self-Seer 10 

480 Avillion ; or, The 5appy Isles 10 

626 Young Mrs. Jardine 10 

628 Motherless (Translated by Miss Mulock) 10 

752 The Italian’s Daughter 10 

773 The Two Homes 10 

804 A Bride’s Tragedy 10 

824 A Legacy. 20 

850 The Half-Caste 10 

886 Miss Letty’s Experiences 10 

945 Studies from Life 10 

964 His Little Mother, and Other Tales 10 

^ 978 A Woman’s Thoughts About Women 10 

j^029 Twenty Years Ago. A Book for (4irls. (Edited by Miss 

Mulock) 10 

1177 An Only Sister, Madame Guizot de Witt. (Edited by Miss 

Mulock) 10 

1261 Plain-Speaking % 10 


MRS. OLIPHANT’S WORKS. 


186 Katie Stewart 10 

210 Young Musgrave 20 

391 The Primrose Path 20 

452 An Odd Couple 10 

475 Heart and Cross 10 

488 A Beleaguered City 10 

497 For Love and Life 20 

511 Squire Arden 20 

542 The Story of Valentine and His Brother 20 

596 Caleb Field - 10 

651 Madonna Mary 20 

665 The Fugitives 10 

680 The Greatest Heiress in England ^ . 20 

706 Earthbound - Id 

775 The Queen (Illustrated) - 10 

785 Orphans 10 

802 Phoebe, Junior. A Last Chronicle of Carlingford 20 

875 No. 3 Grove Road 10 


xr?" THE SEASIDE LTBBABY.-— Ordinary Edition, 


MBS. OLIPHANT’S WORKS.— Continued. 

881 He That Will Not When He May 20 

919 May. 20 

959 Miss Marjoribanks. Parti 20 

959 Miss Marjoribanks. Part II 20 

1004 Harry Joscelyn 20 

1017 Carita 20 

‘ 1049 In Trust 20 

1215 Brownlows 20 

\ 1319 Lady Jane 10 

1396 Whiteladies 20 

1407 A Rose in June 10 

1449 A Little Pilgrim 10 

1547 It Was a Lover and His Lass 20 

1662 Salem Chapel 20 

1669 The Minister’s Wife. First half 20 

1669 The Minister’s Wife. Second half 20 


“OUIDA’S” WORKS. 

49 Granville de Vigne; or, Held in Bondage 20 

54 Under Two Flags 20 

55 In a Winter City 10 

56 Strathmore... 20 

59 Chandos 20 

61 Bebee: or, Two Little Wooden Shoes ; 10 

62 Folle Farine 20 

71 Ariadne — The Story of a Dream 20 

181 Beatrice Boville 10 

211 Randolph Gordon 10 

230 Little Grand and the Marchioness 10 

241 Tricotrin 20 

249 Cecil Castlemaine’s Gage 10 

279 A Leaf in the Storm, and Other Tales 10 

281 Lady Marabout’s Troubles 10 

334 Puck 20 

377 Friendship 20 

379 Pascarel 20 

386 Sign a 20 

389 Idalia.,.. 20 

563 A Hero’s Reward 10 

676 Umilta 10 

699 Moths 20 

791 Pipistrello 10 

864 Findelkind 10 

915 A Village Commune ' 20 

1025 The Little Earl 10 

1247 In Maremma 20 

1334 Bimbi 10 

1586 Frescoes 10 

1625 Wanda, Countess von Szalras 20 


THE 8 EA 8 TDE L TBBA RT.— Ordinary Edition. XT 


JAMES PAIN’S WORKS. 

138 What He Cost Her 10 

2i)9 By Proxy ^ 20 

345 Halves ‘ 10 

358 Less Black Than We’re Painted 20 

369 Pound Bead 10 

382 Gwendoline’s Harvest 20 

401 A Beggar on Horseback 10 

406 One of the Family 20 

485 At Her Mercy 20 

502 Under One Roof (Illustrated) 20 

602 Lost Sir Massingberd 10 

646 married Beneath Him 20 

687 Fallen Fortunes 20 

892 A- Confidential Agent 20 

981 From Exile 20 

1045 The Clyffards of Clyffe 20 

1149 A Grape from a Thorn 20 

1193 High Spirits 10 

1267 For Cash Only 20 

1516 Kit: A Memory 20 

1524 Carlyon s Year 10 

1652 A Woman’s Vengeance : 20 

CHARLES READE’S WORKS. 

4 A Woman-Hater 20 

Ct 19 A Terrible Temptation 10 

Foul Play 20 

Q 24 “It is Never Too Late to Mend ” 20 

^»w^l Love Me Little, Love Me Long 20 

. 34 A Simpleton 10 

^ 41 White Lies 20 

Griffith Gaunt 20 

I 86 Put Yourself in His Place 20 

"T12 Very Hard Cash 20 

203 , The Cloister and the Hearth 20 

237 The Wandering Heir 10 

246 Peg WofiingtoD 10 

270 The Jilt. . . : 10 

371 Christie Johnstone 10 

536 Jack of all Trades 10 

1204 Clouds and Sunshine 10 

1322 The Knightsbridge Mystery 10 

1390 Singleheart and Boublef ace. A Matter-of -Fact Romance . . 10 

W. CLARK RUSSELL’S WORKS. 

848 A Sailor’s Sweetheart 20 

1034 An Ocean Free Lance 20 

j 1339 The Wreck of the “ Grosvenor ” 20 

"^373 My Watch Below; or, Yarns Spun When Off Duty 20 

4381 Auld Lang Syne 10 

^1467 The “ Lady Maud Schooner Yacht 20 

*-4653 A Sea Queen 20 


KYI THE SEASIDE LIBBABT.— Ordinary Edition. 


^ SIR WALTER SCOTT S WORKS. 

Ivauhoe 20 

183 Keuilwortli 20 

196 Heart of Mid-Lothian 20 

O 593 The Talisman 20 

“*^^23 Guy Mannering 20 

857 Waverley 20 

920 Rob Roy. 20 

1007 Quentin Durward 20 

1082 Count Robert of Paris 20 

1275 Old Morlality : 20 

1328 The Antiquary 20 

1399 The Pirate 20 

1462 The Betrothed: A Tale of the Crusaders, and The Chroni- 
cles of the Canongate 20 

1598 Redgauntlet. A Tale of the Eighteenth Century..... 20 

1701 The Monastery 20 

1702 The Abbot (Sequel to “ The Monastery 20 


EUGENE SUE S WORKS. 

129 The Wandering Jew. First half 20 

129 The Wandering Jew. Second half 20 

205 The Mysteries of Paris. First half 20 

205 The Mysteries of Paris. Second half 20 

800 Do Rohan; or, The Court Conspirator 20 

805 Arthur 20 

1030 The Commander of Malta 20 

1540 Martin the Foundling; or. The Adventures of a Yalet de 

Chambre. Vol. 1 20 - 

1540 Martin the Foundling; or. The Adventures of a^ Yalet de 

Chambre. Yol. II 20 

1540 Martin the Foundling; or. The Adventures of a Yalet de 

Chambre. Yol. Ill 20 

1590 Pride ; or. The Duchess, First half 20 

1590 Pride; or. The Duchess. Second^half 20 


A 


59 
570 
’ 580 
£582 
^>613 

624 

638 

638 

648 

648 

669 

669 

961 

1597 


WM. M. THACKERAY’S WORKS. 

Yanity Fair 20 

Lovel, the Widower 10 

Denis Duval 10 

Henry Esmond 20 

The Newcomes. Part I 20 

The Newcomes. Part II 20 

The Great Hoggarty Diamond 10 

Pendennis. Part 1 20 

Pendennis. Part II 20 

The Yirginians. Part I 20 

The Yirginians. Part II 20 

Adventures of Philip. Part I ! . . . 20 

Adventures of Philip. Part II 20 

Barry Lyndon 10 

Catherine: A Story, By Ikey Solomons, Esq., Junior.. 10 


XVII 


TIIE-SB.WTDIU LIBRAUY.~--Ordinary Edition. 


ANTHONY TROLLOPE’S WORKS. 

12 The American Senator 20 

399 Tiie Lady of Launay 10 

530 Sir Harry Hotspur of Humblethwaite 20 

531 John Caldigate 10 

GOl Cousin Henry 10 

768 The Duke’s Children 20 

870 An Eye for an Eye 10 

910 Dr. Wortle’s School 10 

944 Miss Mackenzie 20 

1047 Ayala’s Angel 20 

^1090 Barchester Towers 20 

^^201 Phineas Finn. First half 20 

r^201 Phineas Finn. Second half 20 

1206 Doctor Thorne. First half 20 

1206 Doctor Thorne. Second half 20 

1217 Lady Anna 20 

1255 The Fixed Period.. 10 

1283 Why Frau Frohmann Raised Her Prices, and Other Stories 10 

1292. Marion Fay J. 20 

1306 The Struggles of Brown, Jones & Robinson 20 

1318 Orley Farm. First half 20 

1318 Orley Farm. Second half 20 

1348 The "Belton Estate 20 

1419 Kept in the Dark 10 

1436 The Kellys and The O Kellys 20 

1450 The Two Heroines of Piumplington 10 

1455 The Macdermots of Bally cloran 20 

1473 Castle Richmond 20 

1486 Phineas Redux. First half 20 

1486 Phineas Redux. Second half 20 

1494 TheYicarof Bullhampton 20 

1511 Not If I Know It 10 

1551 Is He Popenjoy? 20 

1559 The Small House at Allington. First half 20 

1559 The Small House at Allington. Second half 20 

1567 The Last Chronicle of Barset. First half 20 

1567 The Last Chronicle of Barset. Second half 20 

1634 The Way We Live Now. First hall 20 

1634 The Why We Live Now. Second half 20 

1656 Mr .Scarborough’s Family 10 

JULES VERNE’S WORKS. 

5 The Black-Indies. 10 

16 The English at the North Pole 10 

43 Hector Servadac 10 

57 The Castaways; or, A Voyage Round the World — South 

America 10 

60 The Castaways; or, A Voyage Round tlie World — Australia 10 
64 The Castaways; or, A Voyage Round the World— New 

Zealand 7 10 


XVIII THE SEASIDE LIBBAHY,— Ordinary Edition. 


JULES VERNE’S WORKS.-Contiiiued. 

Five Weeks in a Balloon 10 

72 Meridiana, and The Blockade Runners 10 

75 The Fur Country. Part I 10 

5 75 The Fur Country. Part II 10 

20,000 Leagues Under the Seas 10 

^ 87 A Journey to the Centre of the Earth 10 

The Mysterious Island — Dropped from the Clouds 10 

The Mysterious Island — The Abandoned 10 

The Mysterious Island — The Secret of the Island 10 

99 From the Earth to the Moon 10 

. Ill A Tour of the World in Eighty Days 10 

131 Michael Strogolf 10^ 

1092. Michael Strogoff (large type, illustrated edition) 20 

414 Dick Sand; or, Captain At Fifteen. Part I 10 

414 Dick Sand; or, Captain at Fifteen. Part II 10 

466 Great Voyages and Great Navigators. Part L... 10 

466 Great Voyages and Great Navigators. Part II 10 

466 Great Voyages and Great Navigators. Part III 20 

505 The Field of Ice (Illustrated) 10 

510 The Pearl of Lima 10 

520 Round the Moon (Illustrated) 10 

634 The 500 Millions of the Begum 10 

647 Tribulations of a Chinaman 10 

673 Dr. Ox’s Experiment ... 10 

710 Survivors of the'Chancellor 10 

818 The Steam-House; or, A Trip Across Northern India. 

Parti ,. 10 

818 The Steam-House; or, A Trip Across Northern India. 

Part II .10 

1043 T h e J a n g a d a ; or, Eight Hundred Leagues over the 

Amazon. Part I ^,......10 

1043 The Jan gad a; or. Eight Hundred Leagues over the 

Amazon. Part II 10 

1519 Robinsons’ School 10 

1677 The Headstrong Turk. First half 10 

MRS. HENRY WOOD’S WORKS. 

1 East Lynne 10 

381 East Lynne (in large type) 20 

25 Ladv Adelaide’s Oath 20 

37 The'Mystery 10 

1125 The Mystery (large type edition) 20 

40 The Heir to Ashley 10 

45 A Life’s Secret 10 

52 The Lost Bank Note 10 

63 Dene Hollow. 20 

65 The Nobleman’s Wife 10 

67 Castle Wafer, and Henry Arkell 10 

73 Bessy Rane ^ ^ 20 

74 Rupert Hall ^ 10 


XIX 


THE SEASIDE LIBEARY,— Ordinary Edition, 


MRS. HENRY WOOD’S WORKS.-Continued. 

83 Verner’s Pride 20 

92 Mrs. Halliburton’s Troubles 20 

106 The Master of Greylands 20 

V 115 Within the Maze 20 

124 Squire Trevlyn’s Heir. 20 

143 J'iie Haunted Tower 10 

220 George Canterbury’s W ill 20 

256 Lord Oakburn’s Daughters 20 

288 The Channings 20 

310 Roland Yorke 20 

328 The Shadow of Ashlydyat 20 ’ 

349 Elster’s Folly 20 

357 Red Court Farm 20 

365 Oswald Cray 20 

373 St. Martin’s Eve 20 

443 Pomeroy Abbey 20 

467 Edina 20 

508 Orville College 20 

914 Johnny Ludlow. Part I 20 

914 Johnny Ludlow. Part II 20 

1054 A Tale of Sin 10 

1076 Anne; or, The Doctor’s Daughter 10 

1094 Rose Lodge 10 

1117 Lost in the Post, and Other Tales 10 

1128 Robert Ashton’s Wedding Day, and Other Tales 10 

1166 Court Netherleigh 20 

For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address, post- 
age free, on receipt of 12 cents for single numbers, and 25 cents for 
double numbers, by the publisher. Parties ordering by mail will 
please order by numbers. 

GEORGE MUNRO, Publisher, 

P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 37 Vandewater Street, New Yorko 


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NO. PRICE. 

1 Yolande. By William Black 20 

2 Molly Bawn. By The Duchess ” 20 

3 The Mill ou the Floss. By George Eliot 20 

4 Under Two Flags. By “Ouida” 20 

5 Admiral’s Ward. By Mrs. Alexander.. 20 

6 Portia. By “ The Duchess” 20 

7 File No. 113. By Emile Gaboriau 20 

8 East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry Wood 20 

9 Wanda. By “ Ouida ” 20 

10 The Old Curiosity Shop. By Dickens. 20 

11 John Halifax, Gentleman. Miss Mulock 20 

12 Other People’s Money. By Gaboriau. 2C' 

13 Eyre s Acquittal. By Helen B. Mathers 10 

14 Airy Fairy Lilian. By ” The Duchess ” 20 

15 Jane Eyre. By Charlotte Bront6 20 

16 Phyllis. By “ The Duchess ” 20 

17 The Wooing Ot By Mrs. A1 exander . . . 20 

18 Shandon Bells. By William Black. ... 20 

19 Her Mother’s Sin. By the Author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

20 Within an Inch of His Life. By Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

21 Sunrise. By William Black 20 

22 David Copperfield. Dickens. Vol. I.. 20 

22 David Copperfield. Dickens. Vol. H. 20 

23 A Princess of Thule. By William Black 20 

24 Pickwick Papers. Dickens. Vol. I... 20 

24 Pickwick Papers. Dickens. Vol. II.. 20 

25 Mrs. Geoffrey. By ” The Duchess ”... 20 

26 Monsieur Lecoq. By Gaboriau. Vol. I 20 

26 Monsieur Lecoq. By Gaboriau. Vol. H. 20 

27 Vanity Fair. By William M. Thackeray 20 

28 Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter Scott 20 

29 Beauty’s Daughters. “ The Duchess ” 20 

30 Faith and Unfaith. By “ The Duchess ” 20 

31 Middle march. By George Eliot. . 20 

32 The Land Leaguers. Anthony Trollope 20 

33 The Clique of Gold. By Emile Gaboriau 20 

34 Daniel Deronda. By George Eliot ... 30 

35 Lady Audley’s Secret. Miss Braddon 20 

.36 Adam Bede. By George Eliot 20 

37 Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles Dickens 30 

38 The Widow Lerbuge. By Gaboriau. . 20 

39 In Silk Attire. By William Black 20 

40 The Last Days of Pompeii. By Sir E. 

Bulwer Lytton 20 

41 Oliver Twist. By Charles Dickens 20 

42 Romola. By George Eliot 20 

43 The Mystery of Orcival. Gaboriau. .20 

44 Maclebd of Dare. By William Black. . 20 

45 A Little Pilgrim. By Mrs. Oliphant. . . 10 

46 Very Hard Cash. By Charles Reade . . 20 

47 Altiora Peto. By Laurence Oliphant. . 20 

48 Thicker Than Water. By James Pay n. 20 

49 That Beautiful Wretch. By Black 20 

50 The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton. 

By William Black 20 

51 Dora Thorne. By the Author of “Her 

Mother’s Sin ” 20* 

52 The New Magdalen. By Wilkie Collins 20 

53 The Story of Ida. By Francesca 10 

54 A Broken Wedding Ring. By the Au- 

thor of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 

55 The Three Guardsmen. By Dumas. , . 20 


PRICE. 
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20 

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NO. 

56 Phantom Fortune. Miss Braddon. 

57 Shirley. By Charlotte Bront6 20 

58 By the Gate of the Sea. By Murray 

59 Vice Versa. By F. Anstej^ 

60 The Last of the Mohicans. Cooper.. ‘ 

61 Charlotte Temple. By Mrs. Rowson ! 

62 The Executor. By Mrs. Alexander. . 

63 The Spy. By J. lenimore Cooper. . 

64 A Maiden Fair. By Charles Gibbon . . 

65 Back to the Old Home. By M. C. Haj 

66 The Romance of a Poor Young Man 

By Octave Feuillet 

67 LorhaDoone. By R D. Blackmore. . 

68 A Queen Amongst Women. By the 

Author of “ Dora Thorne ” 

69 Madolin’s Lover. By the Author of 

“Dora Thorne” 20 

70 White Wings. By William Black 20 

71 A Struggle for Fame. Mrs. Riddell.. 20 

72 Old Myddelton’s Money. ByM. C. Hay 20 

73 Redeemed by Love. By the Author of 

“Dora Thorne” 20 

74 Aurora Floyd. By Miss M. E. Braddon 20, 

75 Twenty Years After. By Dumas 20 

76 Wife in Name Only. By the Author of 

“Dora Thorne” 

77 A Tale of Two Cities. By Dickens 

78 Madcap Violet. By William Black... 

79 Wedded and Parted. By the Author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

June. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

A Daughter of Heth. By Wm. Black. 20 
Sealed Lips. By F. Du Boisgobey. . . 20 

A Strange Story. Bulwer Lytton 20 

Hard Times. By Charles Dickens. . . 20 
A Sea Queen. By W. Clark Russell.. 20 

Belinda. By Rhoda Broughton 20 

Dick Sand ; or, A Captain at Fifteen. 

By Jules Verne 20 

The Privateersman. Captain Marry at 20 
The Red Eric. By R. M. Ballantyne. 10 
Ernest Maltravers. Bulwer Lytton . . 20 
Barnaby Rudge. By Charles Dickens. 30 

92 Lord lAmne’s Choice. By the Author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” '. 20 

93 Anthony Tj-ollope's Autobiography.. 20 

94 Little Dorrit. By Charles Dickens. .. 30 

95 The Fire Brigade. R. M. Ballantyne 10 

96 EiTing the Bold. By R. M. Ballantyne 10 

97 All in a Garden Fair. Walter Besant . 20 

98 A Woman-Hater. By Charles Reade. 20 

99 Barbara’s History. A. B. EdAvards. . . 

100 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas. By 

Jules Verne 

101 Second Thoughts. Rhoda Broughton 20 

102 The Moonstone. By Wilkie Collins.. . 30 

103 Rose Fleming. By Dora Russell 10 

104 The Coral Pin. By F. Du Boisgobej’. 30 

105 A Noble Wife. By John Saunders — 20 

106 Bleak House. By Charles Dickens. . . 

107 Dombey and Son. Charles Dickens. . 

108 The Cricket on the Hearth and Doctor 

Marigold. By Charles Dickens. . . . 


80 

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86 

87 

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91 


20 

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10 


GEORGE I'lTTNRO, Publisher, 

P. O. Rox 3751* 17 to *27 Vanclewater Street, New 


York. 






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